


Unexpected Consequences of Planned Soulbonding

by crescent_gaia



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock - Fandom, Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alpha Lestrade, Alpha Sherlock, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Dubious Consent, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, F/M, M/M, Minor Sebastian Moran/Jim Moriarty, Miscarriage, Multi, Omega John, Omega Mycroft, Omega Verse, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, talk of miscarriage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-09
Updated: 2015-08-10
Packaged: 2017-12-26 02:13:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 58,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/960361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crescent_gaia/pseuds/crescent_gaia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Watson always thought he was an beta, a normal human, until he got shot.  After being discharged by the army and sent back home, he goes about his life until he meets the world's only consulting detective.  Then life takes very unexpected turns.</p><p>Sherlock Holmes, on the other hand, is debating just how much he's going to curse out his brother for putting the ex-soldier in his path.  </p><p>(This does follow the series with the AUness happening before, during, and after series and episodes.  I will not be using season 3, save for the fall explanation.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue #1: When John Got Shot

**Author's Note:**

> I have no notes but to say that this is my first ever omegaverse fic. Please don't hurt me (too much). I also apologize for any points where John sounds more intelligent than he is written. 
> 
> Oh, and everything belongs to their rightful owners and so on and so forth.

“The world, at least when it was explained to me when I was five and thought to ask my drunk as a skunk father, was explained to me in this way. There were the haves, the alphas; the have-nots, betas; and the shat upon, omegas. And that, being my five year old self and a beta, depressed me. It also depressed Harry who happened to be listening in,” John said. “So, Harry, fighting against everything, made herself into the best she could be. She’s got a successful job and the start of a family life with Clara. My father didn’t want to do anything with sending me to medical school, so Harry helped me as much as she could.”

“You’re getting off track,” the American sitting across from him said as he shuffled the deck. He had introduced himself as Kevin.

“Nothing wrong with John talking about family. This is the most we’ve gotten out of him that hasn’t been medical or cricket, so let it be,” Seamus said. He sat to John’s left and Jack, who sat to John’s right and next to Kevin, nodded in agreement.

“Not my fault nobody else likes the national sport,” John said.

“The national sport is football, not bloody cricket,” Jack retorted.

“Your football is weird.” Kevin started to deal. 

“So is yours. Dancing around in all that padding with that odd shaped ball,” Seamus said.

“You know better than to say anything against football with the English around,” Eric said. Another American, who sat on the other side of Kevin, next to Seamus. “Are you going to deal anytime in this century?”

“Nah, you’d just have to wait for the next.” Kevin dealt the hand. “So, John, go on.”

John shrugged. “It depends on what else you want to know. Our history agrees that it started around the end of the second World War, after your bomb was dropped on Japan. Betas are just normal humans. Omegas aren’t allowed to serve and there’s a law against it. We’ve got beta teams with an alpha leader and I don’t know a beta that’s really rose up in the chain of command.”

“We’ve got omega units,” Kevin said. “But betas are put in charge. It’s to keep the rape down, but it seems to happen anyways.”

“Which is why they should stop,” Seamus said. “it’s inhumane and then you yanks wonder why your recruitment rates drop. It’s bad enough that it happens to women service members.”

“In a perfect world, anyone trying to rape another person would have a bunch of rocks dropped on their head. Or their dick cut off.” John looked over his cards and threw in some money. “Raise fifty.” He waited for the others and grinned as everyone threw out their cards. “Cowards.”

“What’d you have?” Jack asked.

John flipped over his cards, showing an ace-five of diamonds. 

“Well, maybe next time.” Jack gathered up the cards and started to shuffle as a bell chimed. “Or not – time for patrol.”

They gathered their money, leaving the table and getting their gear on. They started on patrol, which seemed routine enough, until the enemy started firing at them. It went insanely fast until John felt a bullet rip through his shoulder and he hit the deck. All he could feel was pain as his squad mates got to him and were able to drag him back to the vehicle. The last thing he knew before he went unconscious was Seamus saying that he was going to be fine and that they were getting him to help.

*~*~*~*

When they did get John to help, it started with blood tests along with making sure that the bullet didn’t go anywhere. Luckily for John, it only hit muscle and not bone, along with being a through and through. Unluckily for John, they ran a full blood work to make sure there were no underlying infections. While there, they noticed something odd for a beta, so they ran the secondary ABO test. So, when he woke up from being unconscious, there were MPs outside his door and then a sergeant in his room.

“Sir?” John asked.

“Your blood test had an interesting result. Did you know that you’re an omega?”

John blinked and looked completely confused. “What? That can’t be right. I’m a beta and been told that since before I could remember. Did you check my paperwork?”

“That’s a no.” He wrote something down on a piece of paper. “I’m Sergeant Moore.” He handed over the medical record with the secondary ABO test on it. “This test says differently. Were you a home birth?”

“Yes,” John said. “It happened in the middle of the night and mum wasn’t comfortable with my father calling someone or driving her. That was in the late 70s.”

“So around the start of the home testing.” Sergeant Moore wrote down another note. “Alright – you’re not in trouble, at least not with us. You’re receiving a medical discharge and we’ll be sending you home as soon as the doctors decide that you’re stable. You will need to report to the necessary offices and we’ll make sure that you get all of that information.”

“What – but – I’m not an omega.”

Sergeant Moore gave him a weak smile. “I wish you luck in whatever you do next.” He shook John’s hand and made a quick exit.

John swallowed and looked over the blood report again. There was no denying what the paper said and there was nothing he could do about it. The only good thing is that the sergeant believed him but he wondered about the rest of the world. He looked to the phone and debated about calling Harry, knowing that he should but not wanting to. In the end, he reached over to the phone and dialed Harry’s cell phone.

“Harriet Watson,” she answered.

“It’s me.”

“John? It’s not Sunday,” she said.

He sighed. They had a standing call on Sunday, save if he was on a mission and then he called as soon as he was able. It was the least he could do with their parents dead and all they had were each other. Oh, and Clara, Harry’s alpha. “I know. I got shot and a medical discharge.”

“I told you this would happen.”

This was the entire reason he didn’t want to call her. She was just going to focus on the negative and he didn’t need that right now. “This is not the time for that.”

“I think it’s the perfect time for me to tell you that I was right. Especially since I told you that you’d get shot.”

“You told me that I’d come home in a body bag, which is oh so comforting for me, the one who was going off to war. Not everything is about you!” He took a deep breath and counted to ten as there was just silence. “Harry?”

“So, you’re shot and coming home. Is there anything you want me to do?”

“There’s another reason that they’re discharging me.” He explained the secondary ABO test.

“That’s – that’s not possible. Dad did the test himself.”

“Well, we both knew he was a complete bastard.” He smiled as he heard her laugh. “He just couldn’t bear to have me as a son. I was always a disappointment to him and he loved to tell me that. Now we know more of why he kept on saying that.”

“He was always dead wrong and you know it. I want to know what flight you’re coming home on. I’d like you to stay with us, just for a little while. Clara would like it too – she keeps on going on about missing you. And we could help with getting you to whatever appointments you need – medical or otherwise.”

He thought about it for a moment. It wouldn’t be that bad, going home to family. He could stay at least a month which would be more than enough time to find his own place and a job. Or at least his own place and live off of a meager pension. “Alright. But only for a month, Harry. Otherwise, I think… well, I think it’ll end like it always does.”

“Deal then. So keep me up to date and call anytime. Don’t worry about the hour.”

“Thanks.” He bit his lower lip. “Love you.”

“I love you too. Gotta go.”

“Yeah.” He hung up the phone before leaning back into the pillows. He crumped up the test and threw it into the bin, not wanting to give it another thought. The hospital kept him for another three weeks before deciding he was well enough to go home, giving him all the information and little fanfare when he finally left.

*~*~*~*

John had never been so happy when his month was up at Harry and Clara’s. It was tense at best and downright unhealthy at worse. It didn’t help that Clara seemed to always keep her eye on John, even though he wasn’t doing anything to make Clara want to do so. It ended in a lot of screaming matches, but between John and Harry, like they had so many times when they were kids. So, when the month was up, to the day, and Harry drove him to the new apartment, he cheered on the inside. The drive started out as quiet.

“Are you sure that this is okay?” Harry asked.

John blinked and turned to her. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Because I basically ran you out of there as soon as I was able to.”

He chuckled. “Well, I don’t think I was having the best effect on Clara. Which made you jealous and want to drink. So the two of you will be better with me out of the house.”

“Yeah.” She handed him over a big brown envelope. “Parting gift.”

He took it and opened it, taking out Harry’s old phone and seeing cash in there. “Harry…”

“Don’t want to hear it. I updated last week but kept that phone so you can use it. You’re on our plan and no, I don’t want to hear any protest for that as well. I saw a piece of mail that you left out and saw how much you’re getting a month. I don’t want anybody to say that I don’t take care of my family, even though you might not want to talk to me after this.”

He sighed. “Distance would be the best thing for both of us right now.”

“I’m not saying that you’re wrong.”

“Good.” He looked in the phone and smiled as he saw the contacts list. It was his shrink, Harry’s numbers, and Clara’s numbers. There were a few apps on the phone as well. “Thank you.”

She just smiled at that.

“And I am sorry for all the arguments. I know it’s just words, but I am,” he said.

“They are. I do think that silence is best for the moment. We both know how to get in touch with each other if there’s anything we need. So, if you need me, just call, alright? Even if it is to have a bit more money.”

He nodded but made a mental note that he would not be calling for more money. He’d put what he got into his account, of course, but he would live within the budget he already drew up. Most of the money was going into his new flat, but the rest… the rest he would live on. He was glad when they were finally at his flat and he checked in with the person in charge of the place. He went upstairs and got settled, ignoring Harry’s comments about how the place was small, a one bedroom place that he could get around easily with his cane. He could easily see why most of his rent was going into the place. They got his things upstairs and Harry left after giving him another hug.

When he opened his suitcase and put all his clothes away, he blinked at seeing a laptop with a red bow on top and a flash drive next to it. He opened the envelope that was there, showing a birthday card. Inside, all was written was “for all the ones we missed” signed by Harry and Clara. He sighed as he sat down on the bed, not sure how he was going to ever pay the two back. He pushed that out of his mind as he took the new laptop, which looked exactly like his old one but a newer model, and started his new life as he set up the new computer.


	2. Prologue #2: The Brothers

Sherlock was over by the windows, picking at the strings of his violin as he watched the black sedan pull up in front of his flat on Baker’s Street. He muttered about how stupid it was to get dressed today, as there was a nagging feeling in the back of his head that Mycroft would want to speak to him. He kept an eye on the car, noticing two minions in suits along with the texting woman. So he was to go to Mycroft instead of Mycroft coming here. That was no matter to him, as he liked it better when his brother wasn’t here, but at the same time, it meant leaving. 

And damn it, he had an experiment that was due to be done within two hours. Talks with Mycroft usually went into three or four when you calculated in the drive. He thought if he could pause, putting his violin into the case and walking over to where it was spread out on the kitchen table. Seeing that it could be paused, he donned a pair of gloves, carefully picked up the petri dishes and made sure they were secure. He was taking off the gloves when the two minions came into the flat. “There is such a thing as burglary.”

“Your landlady let us in, sir,” one of the minions said.

Sherlock looked him over. The signs were written all over the man of a paper pusher. There was ink on a couple of his fingers, along with a writer’s callus on the middle finger of his left hand. _Interesting, left handed_ he thought as he went through how many people there could be in England before moving up to the man’s face. He did note the two dogs that the man owned due to fur on the sleeves, long haired with one brown and one white, and that he didn’t know how to iron. On the face, there was a bit of fear so it meant that he had been warned about Sherlock, plus he had no smell on him – beta. A beta against an alpha… he’d use to that his advantage. Oh, and it was the man’s first week wearing contacts. “Yes, but I did not invite you into my flat.” A slight pause. “Leave,” he growled.

The beta turned to go to the door but the other minion stopped him with a hand on the shoulder. He turned the beta minion back around. _Too bad_ Sherlock thought. The growl, working on betas and omegas alike, was one of the ways an alpha could show dominance. Two alphas could get into a contest of growling, but it usually ended with physical violence unless one of the alphas submitted. That was the other way that an alpha showed dominance and what Sherlock considered a minor step above the only real way to control an omega – a bonding. He mentally shuttered at the thought and could not understand how other alphas could stomach it.

There was no way to control a beta unless you had something they truly wanted. For they were normal and dull, save for a handful that had actual intelligence. Sherlock put Mrs. Hudson and Molly into the category of useful betas, but otherwise, he dismissed them as a whole.

“Your landlady invited us into the home, therefore we are allowed to come into the flat that you rent from her,” the second minion said.

Sherlock turned his gaze to the second minion. There were few clues on his suit, save for that he knew how to use an iron and had a very good tailor for a civil servant. The shoes were smartly shined, so probably ex-military, and the hands showed the man to be a fighter. _He sent brute force if I don’t come willingly._ The scent coming off the second minion was one of an alpha and, considering the way he didn’t control his scent, one that was used to getting his way. That didn’t surprise him – better to send one of both rather than two betas. Two betas meant that Sherlock had the upper hand and could decline. Two alphas meant that Sherlock would fight his way out of going, as he had in the past. One of each meant that Mycroft’s minions had the upper hand – the alpha could cancel out the growl and the beta could hold the alpha back if needed. 

“Fine, save for disrupting a more interesting experiment. He doesn’t understand that what I do is important. Nor do I think that the two of you understand that either.”

“We understand, sir, but at the same time, you do need to come with us,” the second minion said. He stepped closer to Sherlock, his hands balling into fists as he did so, clearly sporting for a challenge from a fellow alpha.

_I highly doubt that you do._ Sherlock was able to get a better whiff of the alpha’s scent. Even though the scent was letting be run freely, it didn’t get under his nose until the minion stepped closer. Apparently a problem at home, considering that the minion smelt like he was about to go into heat. Sherlock, luckily, never went into heat due to focusing his life to not be in contact with omegas. He kept hope that he would never find the omega he was supposed to be bonded to, despite efforts on Mycroft’s part to the contrary. He never wanted to experience what that could be like and it would be impossible to keep an omega due to his job as a consulting detective. “It is not my fault that you cannot keep your mate happy and yourself out of a heat that you would not be experiencing. You would also be less prone to defaulting to violence. Then again, I wonder if maybe your omega is in the hospital and the marks on your hands are less from a fight. More from beating your omega into a bloody pulp. Did they not teach you better?”

The second minion growled and lunged at Sherlock but the first minion was there in a flash to pull the second minion back. Not that it mattered as Sherlock moved out of the way and in a defensive stance. “Sir, it might be best for you to just get in the car,” the beta minion said. “We will be down in just a few minutes.”

Sherlock grinned. “Yes, it would be. Don’t break anything.” He grabbed his scarf and coat, putting on both before walking down the stairs to the car that was waiting for him. He nodding to the woman standing on the outside, reading over what was on her cell phone. “Do tell Mycroft that we are on our way as soon as his minions decide to calm down.”

“This would be easier if you just obeyed what Lord Mycroft wanted.”

Sherlock snorted at hearing the woman use Mycroft’s title. “As if that would do any good in the long run.” He got into the car and the two minions came down to the car a moment later. The beta got into the backseat with Sherlock and the alpha rode up in the front. Sherlock turned to the minion. “Well?” he asked with a growl. He wanted to know if he had to yell at Mycroft about his minions breaking things, along with the unlawful entering that he was going to give his brother an earful about.

“Nothing was broken, sir. Despite that he wanted to smash the skull that you have on the mantle,” the minion replied. He blinked and shook his head. “I hate it when ones like you do that.”

Sherlock’s answer was only to chuckle as the car started the drive to Mycroft’s home.

*~*~*~*

Sherlock walked into the manor that was Mycroft’s home – well, the family home that he let Mycroft have – and looked around the empty front hall. “Mycroft?” he called.

A servant came down the stairs and bowed his head to Sherlock. “He is up in the study, sir.”

“Thank you.” Sherlock took off his coat and scarf, giving them to the servant to hang up. He went up the stairs to the study, knocking once before letting himself in. He saw that Mycroft was on the phone and simply sat down in a chair across from his brother behind the desk. He played with things on the desk as Mycroft’s back was to him for the moment.

“Yes, move the meeting to tomorrow at nine,” Mycroft said. “And make the proper apologies. I have something to attend to here.” He turned around and gave Sherlock a look. 

Sherlock put everything back into place. Even though Mycroft was just an omega, he knew better than to cross him. _Biology of an omega, the mindset of an alpha._ Then again, their father raised them both as alphas because he never thought he would have a younger son or that the younger one would prove to be an alpha. Plus, the only time that Mycroft moved Sherlock’s stuff was to bug him, not to annoy. He leaned back in the chair.

“Call if you need me,” Mycroft said and put down the phone. “Did you really have to annoy Ralph?”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow at the name. “That is such a pleasant name for a hot head alpha. Downright common, isn’t it? Don’t tell me that you’ve gone back to hiring the poor folk as your personal assistants. It doesn’t become you. Also, he’s probably beating his omega.”

“He comes from a proper family. It is not my fault that his parents failed at being creative in naming him.” A pause. “And he’s been counseled about that.”

“I do not understand why you send minions who decide to burglarize me,” Sherlock said.

“Mrs. Hudson let them in. If anything, you should speak to your housekeeper and not to me.”

Sherlock sighed. “Why am I here?”

Mycroft looked down to the paper on his desk, finding what he wanted and passing it to Sherlock. “You are coming to this and no, you are not objecting.”

Sherlock took the piece of paper and scoffed at the invitation. “I am not going to yet another social function! We decided, when father died, that you were going to do that. You’re even properly mated to a handsome detective inspector. Even so, I’m busy that evening.”

Mycroft raised an eyebrow. “I’m surprised you noticed that.”

“I noticed that when you were first interested in him. How was I to know that, when you kidnapped him, you two would have that annoying bond activate? Which is why I am not going to this asinine reception.”

“You are coming,” Mycroft said. “I do not care if I have to drag you there myself. You are not getting any younger, Sherlock. Even a beta would be acceptable at this point. There are rumors that you’re attracted to that lab assistant at St Bart’s morgue.”

Sherlock’s mind wandered to Molly. True, he was intrigued by her, but he didn’t think that he would want to date her. Despite what she wanted, he knew that he didn’t want to complicate his working relationship with her. “No.”

“I doubt anything would change, if that’s your worry.”

“Are you bugging my mind as well as my flat now?” Sherlock asked.

“No,” Mycroft said. “But I know you, Sherlock. You’d rather hide instead of accepting what you are. And you need to be the one to carry on the family line.”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow at that. This was the first time he ever heard Mycroft talk about… well, that in a long while. “I thought you were going to be the one to do that?”

“I thought so as well until last month’s miscarriage. We were at five weeks.”

Sherlock’s mouth opened as he heard that. He closed it and looked away. “I am sorry to hear that. It explains why Lestrade was so quiet last month.”

“This was not the first miscarriage either,” Mycroft said. “I know how you do not like hearing about these matters.”

Sherlock nodded. “Mycroft, there must be another way. There must be some medicine or using a surrogate…”

“If one of us was female, we would be using a surrogate. The drugs are not working, despite the fact that they work for others.”

“Have you tried getting rid of all stress?” Sherlock asked. “Considering your job – “

“Of course I have!” Mycroft snapped and closed his eyes for a moment. “Sherlock, there is no other way. You need to find someone. And if you do not do it for yourself, I will step in and do it for you.”

“For the sake of the family name.” Sherlock wrinkled his nose. “You know what father would say about this.”

“Thank everything he’s not living,” Mycroft said. “So, about the gala – “

“No,” Sherlock said. “I will find my mate my own way. And, if all else fails, I’ll swallow my pride and talk to Molly. A beta is better than nothing.”

“I wouldn’t think of it that way,” Mycroft said. The phone rang and he picked it up. “Yes?” He smiled. “Send him through.”

“Lestrade’s here. I should be leaving,” Sherlock said.

“You don’t have to. You could stay and have dinner,” Mycroft said.

“I like Lestrade too much as a friend to make him an enemy,” Sherlock sad as he got up. “Good to see you, as always Mycroft.” He left the study and went down the stairs. The servant from before found Sherlock’s scarf and coat and Sherlock was into a car before Lestrade saw him. He didn’t want to stop and make small talk, considering all he had to think over. He was going to have to do something and fast, if only to say that he did something without Mycroft’s help. Even though his brother meant well, and he knew that, the alpha part of his mind growled at an omega finding another omega for him. He would find his own damned mate and he would do it in his own damn time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who has read the story, left comments, kudos, and bookmarked the story. I hope that you liked the second chapter as much as the first. :) 
> 
> Cheers!


	3. First Meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set during and a very small bit after Study in Pink. Any dialogue from said episode belongs to the original authors.

John Watson couldn’t believe how his luck was going today. It started off as shitty and that was being charitable. He woke up alone, feeling a bit sore from fending off an attacking alpha the night before that only wanted to shove him against the wall and fuck him. His blog, the one that the shrink recommended that he do, still sat empty. Sure, he could write about what happened last night, but it didn’t feel right to put out for all to see. Plus, who would believe him? An omega beating up an alpha was unheard of. _And then there’s the police to worry about._ If he hadn’t run when he did, he would be in jail right now.

Instead, he checked his email where there was another rejection letter. He was trying to get into some sort of position where he would see patients, so he applied to St Bart’s. Anything in St Bart’s would do, but there was the rejection letter that, even though his application was outstanding, there were no open positions at the time. He accepted it, thinking it had more to do with his cursed biology than there not being any open positions. No, there was safety to think about as well – what if an alpha needed to be helped and they were in heat? It would just be horrible.

So John got up and ready for the day and went to his appointment with the shrink. He didn’t really give her a lot of answers and the most that he remembered was telling her “nothing happens to me”. He never liked telling her the truth, so he hid in little white lies here and there. It was probably something of a breakthrough that he was willing to admit that – out loud as well – but he was mentally kicking himself for it afterwards. 

So, when he ran into an old school chum who asked him to have a coffee with him, it felt a bit good. When the same chum said that he knew someone looking for a flat mate who thought the same as he did, then it was even better. What he wasn’t expecting, and what made him think that his luck wasn’t turning around, was to be introduced to an alpha. An alpha who gave him a look that was between curiosity and something else. That something else that he saw in the eyes of the alpha that attacked last night – lust. But the alpha blinked and the look of lust was gone. The look of curiosity was still there. He heard that the man’s name was Sherlock Holmes and he thought it was a very interesting name for an interesting (and pale) man.

“Mike, can I borrow your phone?” Sherlock asked. “There’s no signal on mine.”

“What’s wrong with the landline?”

“I prefer to text,” Sherlock replied.

Mike sighed. “Sorry, it’s in my coat.”

John got his out of his pocket. “Er, here… use mine.”

“Oh. Thank you,” Sherlock said.

“This is an old friend of mine, John Watson,” Mike said.

John walked over and Sherlock met him halfway. As he handed over the phone, time seemed to slow down. Sherlock knew that something was off as well, considering that there was a very small hint of fear in his eyes. Why an alpha had anything to fear from an omega, he wasn’t sure what it was. 

“Afghanistan or Iraq?” Sherlock took it and sent off a text message. 

“Sorry?” John asked.

“Which was it, in Afghanistan or Iraq?”

John looked at Mike, who smiled, and then turned his attention back to Sherlock. “Afghanistan. Sorry, how did you..?”

The phone was handed back to him and the rest of the meeting was a bit of a blur. All he really remembered, aside from the man reading him like an open book, was what he said at the end.

“And I know that your therapist thinks your limp’s psychosomatic, quite correctly I’m afraid. That’s enough to be going on with, don’t you think?” He exited the room before popping his head back in. “The name’s Sherlock Holmes and the address is 221B Baker Street. Afternoon.”

“Yeah. He’s always like that. I’d understand if you don’t want to go,” Mike said.

“No, I don’t mind that. At least, I don’t think that I will. I’m more worried about the fact that he’s an alpha,” 

Mike looked at John. “That shouldn’t matter, should it?”

John sighed. Then again, it would mean having something besides the stupid blog to talk about at his next visit. “Turns out that my father lied about the test. I’ve been an omega all my life and just hiding it well. Since I went to a beta school, nobody noticed it. Same with the unit. It wasn’t until I was shot that they found it.”

“Oh. Are they punishing you in anyway?” Mike asked.

“Yeah, they sent me home,” John snapped and turned, walking quickly out of the lab.. He had to get out of the place as it felt like the walls were closing in on him. He accidently bumped into the woman that brought Sherlock a cup of coffee. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s alright.” She turned to look at him. “Molly Hooper.”

“John Watson. So… Sherlock Holmes. Is he always like that?”

“Sometimes worse,” Molly said. “I didn’t know that he was looking for a flat mate though. But he might be nicer to you. He seems to only be like this to his co-workers from what I heard. You should Google him if you’re really wondering about him.”

John nodded. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Molly said. “And good luck. Do you want help getting out? Sometimes it seems like it’s a maze in here.”

“That’d be nice,” John said. He followed Molly to the exit, grateful that she changed her pace to match his. “I’ve got a strange question for you.”

“Beta. It’s not strange.”

“Feels that way for me,” John said. “Never cared about it until recently.”

“Really? I just – usually omegas are the most curious about that.”

“I’m not a usual omega.” John smiled at her laugh. “Thanks again for showing me out. I’m not sure where Mike went, but I think he went his own way out.”

“You’re welcome. And good luck, John Watson, whatever you decide.” Molly smiled at him and disappeared back into the hallways.

John nodded a yes and slowly made his way back to his small flat. He sat down at the computer, flipping it on and started his search on Sherlock Holmes. After a couple of hours, he closed the laptop lid and made up his mind. He would meet Sherlock at the flat and push down the worry about living with an alpha.

*~*~*~*

“Something’s bothering you.”

John blinked and looked up from his plate of food. He had been eating in silence, with Sherlock stealing a bit of food here and there. He didn’t mind all that much, considering the portion size at the Chinese place was huge. They had just left the crime scene after John properly met Mycroft and there were a lot of things going through his mind. “Sorry?”

“Something’s bothering you. You’ve been pushing those noodles around for a while now. Or do you not like it?”

“Just thinking on something that your brother said when I first met him.” John pushed the plate away from him and took a sip of tea. “About happy announcements.”

“Ah. Well, he wants me to settle down. He just cannot accept that is not going to happen anytime soon. He doesn’t accept that I’m married to my work. You do. It’s refreshing. So thank you for that.”

“You’re welcome.” John looked at the plate he pushed away. “I’m not sure if I don’t like it or if I’m just full.” The waiter took that moment to come around and he asked for a box to take home the leftover food. “Do you ever eat?”

“I was eating.”

“Not properly. You could have gotten your own meal,” John countered.

“And yet you didn’t make any complaint until I tried to steal the last dumpling. You are as lethal with a fork as you are with a gun.”

“Keep your voice down about that,” John said. He looked around but nobody was noticing them. “You never answered me.”

“About the pill? I had the right pill. I also don’t believe in suicide in case you were curious.”

“Not really, but good to know.” The waiter came back with the box and the bill. John reached to pay for it, but Sherlock was there first and paid it. “Thank you.”

“Least I can do.” Sherlock got up, with John following him, and they made their way back to Baker Street. He went to an experiment on the kitchen table as John put away the food and started to make tea. “You just finished a cup.”

“Helps with going to sleep.” John got down two cups, getting the tea together easily. When it was ready, he gave Sherlock a cup and went to sit in his chair with a book that he brought with him. The silence was nice, even though he could feel that Sherlock was watching him. He decided not to say anything, trying to keep his attention on his book, but failing to do so. “Probably bedtime. Good night.”

Sherlock didn’t reply, just writing down something in a notebook that was right by him without looking up at all. 

John made no comment, easily going up the stairs to his room. He did his usual bathroom activities before getting into bed and starting his breathing exercises. As he did, he felt his hand slowly go down his body, reaching inside of his pants to his cock. He was only starting to get hard as he wrapped his hand around his cock before stopping himself. “It’s just the hormones,” he whispered as he closed his eyes and tried to relax. He let go of his cock, turning instead to curl up on himself.

_He’s just an alpha and I’m just reacting because I’m an omega. There’s nothing else. Nothing. I’m not gay. And I don’t want to release._

That argument and staying curled up lasted all of five minutes as he rolled over to his back again. His hand went back to where it was before, flicking the tip with his thumb before he started to stroke himself. He bit down hard on his lip, stifling any sort of noise that he could possibly make, as he felt himself getting close. He flicked the tip a couple more times before he gave himself a hard tug and came. He breathed hard, catching his breath and thinking that he needed to clean himself up first. That was a fleeting thought as he drifted off to sleep instead and, for the first night since he came home, there were no nightmares of war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize this for not being up about two weeks ago. I was having a bit of writer's block because I wanted there to be more than just the scene that we were given that I use. Also, on Monday (the following day), when I had a break through, I was out walking my dog and had a nasty fall. I broke my nose - lucky just hairline! - and my right hand is banged up to the fact that I'm only using two fingers and my thumb with typing. So, yes, sorry about that! However, next chapter will be up later tonight / very early tomorrow because I'm editing it right now. :)


	4. Discovering Meddling

It was a week or so after Sherlock and John solved the case that John was calling a Study in Pink. He was wondering what was happening to his sanity that he was allowing John to actually write down the story behind the case. “What is the reason behind doing this again?” He leaned back in his usual chair, watching John make tea in the kitchen area. “And you remember how I like the tea, right?” He had gotten quite cross the first time John made tea, and he was kicking himself for showing anger, when John was only trying to be nice. Then again, there were little things that were getting on his nerves. Like Lestrade being in his flat, thinking that he had something to do with the murder and that he was holding onto that fact for so long. It wasn’t the first time he was thought to be the murderer and it wasn’t going to be the last.

“Yes, I do,” John replied. He brought over two mugs, setting one down in front of Sherlock, before he took what was becoming his chair. 

Sherlock sipped at it. It was better this time around. Not perfect, but then again, there were few perfect things in this world. “So, the blog.”

“It’s just an idea,” John said. “So that people know the greatness that you are doing.”

Sherlock wrinkled his nose at the thought. “People already know what I’m doing.”

“Yes, I’ve read your blog.”

“And?” Sherlock asked.

“Dull.”

“Well, considering your mind, I’m not surprised you think that way,” Sherlock said. “That information is needed. What you want to do is make stories.”

“It is not a story. It is fact,” John said. “I don’t understand why you’re so against this. Surely you’d want people interested in what you do. You must need clients.”

“I’m happy with the client base that I have,” Sherlock said. “Besides, there is something else that we need to talk about.”

“Which is?” John asked.

“The night in the restaurant where you asked me about my relationships – you understand that I…” Sherlock tried to figure out how to put this. He didn’t want John to get mad at him. But when did that matter in the past? He never minded speaking his mind. Yet, when it came to John, there were words that, once past his lips, he wished he could take them back. Like the conversation about last words. There was so much hurt in the man’s eyes when he said to have some creativity. “I am not looking to start anything. I am unsure of what you want, considering that you were the one to start the conversation. And you’ve been uncomfortable.”

“Well, for starters, I’m not gay.”

Sherlock kept his amusement at that comment off of his face. He wanted to laugh and point out the various ways that John actually is. Starting with the hideous jumper that John decided to wear that day. But that was getting off the mental track. He relaxed into his chair. “So you are looking for an alpha elsewhere? That’s good to know.”

“I’d be happy with a beta. I really don’t need an alpha telling me what to do and when to do it,” John said. “And it’s just the hormones. Surely you could have told me that.”

A part of Sherlock growled in protest at both statements. “Even though the laws say differently?”

“The laws say that an omega can be claimed by an alpha over a beta. However, I think that, if I was going to be claimed, it would have happened a long time ago. As it is, I seem to only attract the ones that want to push me up against a wall, fuck me, and leave. So, no, I’d rather have someone who is normal.” He took a sip of tea. “I think the entire thing is stupid anyways.”

“Biology is stupid?” Sherlock asked.

“To be governed by it like we are? Yes,” John said. “A person should matter more than what they were born to be. They can’t serve in the military, nobody wants to hire them for fear of what might happen, and… well, heaven forbid if there was one on the throne. Probably why Her Majesty hasn’t stepped aside even with her age.”

“Interesting.”

“What?” John asked.

“I’ve misjudged you. I didn’t think that you would be so against it. As much as there are reasons to not be ruled by it, there are laws that protect you. Surely you don’t think that ones like you are just to be used and discarded, do you? There are laws against just using omegas for sex. People have been arrested for it. Back before the laws changed, a man hanged for it. Then again, the omega died sometime later, but you see my point.”

“There are a lot of omegas that do think like that, no matter what the laws say. You asked me what I think. I’ve told you. Just as you are surprised that I speak out against those laws, I’m not surprised that you’re in favor of them. They make it so that ones like you can do what you want,” John said.

“And you think that I’m just a brute?”

“No. But you’re the exception, not the rule, Sherlock. Same as Lestrade. Anderson is more likely to be a normal one and try to just take. But that could be my misjudging him,” John said.

“I’ll remember not to leave you alone with him then.”

“You don’t have to protect me,” John said.

“Don’t I?” Sherlock turned his attention back to John. “You are living here with me.”

“We’re flat mates. And you didn’t want anything in the first place, so how are we back here again?” John got up, moving into the kitchen and throwing what was left of his tea down the sink. “I’m going to bed.”

Sherlock moved over to the couch and looked back down to the book in front of him. He let John go off and tried to focus back on what he was researching. He tried to make a note or two, but his hand was shaky as he tried it. He threw down the pen, laying down and closing his eyes to try to focus. Instead, his mind went back to the meeting and Mike. And then he went back farther, trying to remember how he met Mike in the first place. 

_”Michael, this is my brother Sherlock,” Mycroft said by way of introduction._

“Who just happens to be an old school friend of John’s,” Sherlock muttered to himself. He sat up when he realized what he just said. “I’m going to kill him.” He grabbed his scarf and jacket, out the door in a flash, and a minute or two later in a taxi towards Mycroft’s.

*~*~*~*

Sherlock bang open the door when he finally got through the gate and the taxi let him out. He let the servant pay for it as he went up the stairs and was greeted by Mycroft wrapped in a robe with some pants on. “You are, quite simply, an asshole.”

Mycroft looked amused. “And why is that?”

“I told you not to interfere! That I would find someone on my own. But that is not enough for you, so you had to put John in my path. You thought I wouldn’t connect the dots and that you could get away with it!”

“I did not do anything of the kind with John Watson. If I did, do you think I would – in his words – kidnap him so I could talk to him? Why not just go by the proper channels?” Mycroft asked. “Also, why wouldn’t he know who I am?”

“Because you never had contact with him until that point. You worked behind the scenes – I wouldn’t be surprised if you were behind him getting shot – and then you used someone I didn’t mind talking to. You used Mike. Now I have to write him off because I won’t ever be able to trust him again. I might even have to find a new lab because I can’t use one where he’s in charge of it and reports everything back to you!”

“Sherlock, even if you are right, why are you raving at me? Why not just be happy with what you have? Considering the fact that he killed for you – “ Mycroft stopped and turned to the sound of the door opening behind him. 

“Well, that’s one mystery solved,” Lestrade said as he came out of the bedroom. He, thankfully, was fully dressed. “Did you really think I would just forget what you were saying? You weren’t in shock.”

“Alright, so maybe I wasn’t. He’s still got no right to do what he is doing!” 

“Then tell John it isn’t working and let him find another place to live,” Mycroft said. “I am not holding a gun to your head to make him stay. You are free to invite whoever you wish to stay to your flat or kick them out as is your agenda. What you are not allowed to do is come to my home and ruin a perfectly good evening.”

“What, he’s not going anywhere. So you just have to undress him again,” Sherlock said.

Mycroft looked to Lestrade and then back to Sherlock. “Is there anything else?”

“If I evict John, are you going to leave me alone with finding a mate?” Sherlock asked.

“You’re making him do that?” Lestrade asked. “I thought you were just joking.”

“No, I was quite serious at the time,” Mycroft said. “It might even mellow him, which would make your working with him easier. And then I don’t have to listen about how my younger brother is … well, sometimes his language does get too colorful.”

“Do you punish him for that?” Sherlock asked.

“For someone who doesn’t like sex or relationships, you’re oddly aware about how both work,” Mycroft said. “Leave Sherlock.”

“Fine,” Sherlock spat.

“And think about this – are you really going to be happy if you let John go? From what Mike told me, there was a spark. Which leads me to believe that John is there to stay. So you should just like what you are given. It means that I don’t have to find you a Christmas present this year. Not that you ever send one back.”

“You’re just impossible to buy for,” Sherlock said. 

“Good night, Sherlock.”

“Good night, Mycroft. Lestrade.” Sherlock went back down the stairs. He nodded to the servant before getting back into the taxi that the servant told to wait for him. Sherlock gave the address to the flat and watched the city go by after muting the television in the taxi. He paid the man when the taxi stopped and he quietly went upstairs. He went by John’s room, opening the door and watching the man sleep for a bit.

_What am I doing? I can’t just have an omega – look at what has happened so far – and besides, John doesn’t want to be kept. Mycroft is wrong, but that’s to be expected. While I do care what he thinks and how I – if that really is the start of it, I’ll kick myself out before I kick him out. He needs here more than I do._

He closed the door, without making any sound, and went back to the main area. He hung up his coat and scarf before moving over to where the violin was. He needed to calm down and the best way would be just playing. Or composing something – yes, that would be best. That ate up a couple hours and he felt a lot calmer. He looked over what he written down and smiled as he felt someone watching him. “Did I wake you?”

“I woke up on my own. Whatever that was, it’s beautiful.”

“Just created it and I doubt that it’s beautiful. It’s rough in a lot of spots, but the end result is a good one.” Sherlock turned to look at John. “I hope that you don’t hold our previous conversation against me.”

“Why would I do that? It’s best to have things out in the open. And I would rather you know what I think than keeping things inside. I like trusting you, Sherlock. Even if you like to keep most of your secrets from me. Someone’s got to be open.”

“It probably helps,” Sherlock said. “Would you mind making tea?”

“No, since I’m up. Play the song again for me? Please?” 

Sherlock watched John go to the kitchen as he put the violin up to his shoulder. He turned to the music and started to play again, playing straight through even though his mind itched to stop and change a bit here and a bit there. When he was done, there was a cup of tea waiting for him. He ignored it for a moment, writing down the changes, before taking the cup and sipping at it. “It’s perfect.”

“Much like your song,” John said. “Good night Sherlock.”

“Good night John. I’ll try to keep it down.”

“Don’t on my account. I love the violin,” John said.

Sherlock smiled at that, a warm feeling flowing through him that he didn’t want to stop. _Maybe having an omega wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world after all_ was his thought as he turned to tinker more with his tune. When he was done, he titled it “John’s Melody” before putting it away with his other musical creations.

“No, it would be and I am not bonding. Sentiment and too complicated.”

_There are worse people to bond with. And who would we be losing to? Biology? There are worse enemies – like this Moriarty._

“Do shut up. And I’m still going to kill him.” He closed the case with a loud snap before flopping down on the couch and imagining throwing Mycroft in the Thames. That was the thing that helped him sleep for a few hours before he went to his own room to sleep for the rest of his night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for kudos, comments, and hits! See you next Sunday. <3


	5. Smells and Rings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of Mycroft and Lestrade. :) Set right before Blind Banker.

Gregory Lestrade opened his eyes as the black car came to a stop and he shook his head to get rid of the groggy feeling. The day had been too long and he had to deal with too many headaches. Most of them came from his own team of Donovan and Anderson, but the rest were the paperwork that was forced upon him. How he was slipping less from solving crimes into a bureaucrat was something he was going to have to fix. The question of how was escaping him at the moment. He was just grateful that, of his 99 problems today, one of them was not Sherlock. He gave Anthea an apologetic smile. “Hope I didn’t snore too much.”

“You didn’t snore much, sir,” Anthea said. “He is expecting you and should be up in the library.”

“Thank you,” Lestrade said as he got out of the car. He sighed as his phone rang and he saw it was Donovan. “What now?”

“I just needed to double check that I was allowed to find someone to sign off on the warrant to search the docks tomorrow morning,” Donovan said. “If I had known you were going to bite my head off, I wouldn’t have called.”

“You’ll know I’m biting your head off because your head will be physically separated from your body,” he snapped. “Just do it and stop second guessing yourself.” He snapped his phone closed before opening it one last time and turning it off. He nodded to the servant who opened the front door, taking the steps two at a time to the library. He stopped and turned, going to Mycroft’s study as he heard his omega speaking in there. He opened the door with a bang, moving over to the desk.

“Michael, I’m about to be cut off. We’ll finish this – “ Mycroft could barely finish the sentence before the phone was taken from his hands and slammed down. “I would apologize for Sherlock, but he is his own person.”

“Not Sherlock. Just my idiot sergeant second guessing herself again. Along with the fact that today was one of the worst and the week has barely started.”

“Ah.” Mycroft reached up for Greg, gently pulling him down to his lap and kissed his cheek. “When’s the last time you ate, love?”

“I had lunch.”

“Sandwich, no soup, eaten at your desk and not even all of it.” Mycroft picked up the phone and pressed a number. “Please have dinner brought up. Thank you.” He put down the phone and wrapped his arms around his alpha. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“It’s just – is it really nearly eight?” 

“You’re changing the subject,” Mycroft said.

“Yeah, only because I didn’t realize how late it was.” Greg sighed and tried to relax back into Mycroft. “What’s the date?”

Mycroft said the date. “You have a day off tomorrow, which means that you are sleeping in, even if I have to tie you to the bed.”

“I like being tied to the bed.” Greg sighed.

Mycroft was about to say something when there was a slight knock at the door. “Come!” he called and raised an eyebrow when Anthea entered. “Is something wrong?”

“Your brother is on the property and it looks like he scaled the fence,” Anthea replied. “Instead of being a normal person and coming in a cab. I could deal with him if you want, sir.”

“Somehow I don’t think that is the best idea, but thank you.” Mycroft waited until Anthea left the room to sigh. “And just when the evening was turning to be something better. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault love.” Greg thought for a moment before getting up, turning to look at his omega. “Did you want to finish the phone call that I interrupted?”

“Not really, but there are other calls to be made. What is your idea?” 

“Just to let me deal with Sherlock,” Greg replied. “How can he climb over the fence?”

“Training from teenage years when mummy grounded him for one too many experiments,” Mycroft said. “Are you sure? You were in a bad mood…”

“Better to take it out on him than you,” Greg replied. He kissed his omega’s cheek before going out to the hallway. He was about to go down the stairs when he heard the front door open with a bang. He moved to see the stairs, deciding that would be where he made his stand. 

“Lestrade,” Sherlock said. “What are you doing here?”

“Trying to enjoy my time off,” Greg said. He grabbed Sherlock’s arm, pulling him away from the stairs. Mostly because he was afraid that, if he got angry enough, he might push Sherlock down those stairs. He didn’t want his omega to be without his brother.

“I’m only going to be a moment. It’s mostly about how Mycroft keeps on kidnapping John to get information on what I’m doing. Even though John doesn’t say anything and he’s complaining about… well, everything, but that seems to be the topic of late.”

“Well, I’ll pass that on. You’re still not going to see him,” Greg said and crossed his arms. “It’s not a matter of life or death.”

“He’s my brother. I can see him if I want.”

Greg snorted. “Yeah, and the two of you snipe at each other like nothing I’ve ever seen. I want my evening to go smoothly, Sherlock; it’s bad enough that Donovan and Anderson fucked it up earlier. Do you really want to add yourself to a list with their names on it?”

Sherlock was about to protest when he closed his mouth. “Fine. When are you going to give me another case?”

“Whenever you decide to stop acting like a child and ask for one.” Greg smiled. “Day after tomorrow, I’ll be back. If I get called in, then it’s important and I’ll ring you. Only if it’s around 7, I know.” He decided to cross one more subject off of his ‘to ask Sherlock about’ list. “How’s John?”

“Being himself. I’m still kicking myself for letting him in.”

“No you’re not.” Greg laughed. “John Watson is the best thing that’s ever happened to you and you know it. Besides, if you were supposed to be bonded to him, you’d start smelling him.”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow, looking confused.

“Oh for the love of – omegas don’t all have the same smell, Sherlock.” Greg smiled. “For example, Mycroft smells of dark Belgian chocolate, mahogany, and newspaper. It is one of the best things in the world.”

“John smells like sand, tea, and new books,” Sherlock whispered.

Greg raised an eyebrow. He wasn’t surprised that Sherlock did smell something, but more on the fact that Sherlock came out and admitted it. “Sherlock – “

“I can’t. Too dangerous.”

“Yeah, I thought the same thing with mine.” Greg smiled as he heard Sherlock’s snort. “I’m not joking. You think you have enemies; mine live mostly in London and would love to use whatever they could against me. It was bad enough with the ex-wife and now… at least Mycroft doesn’t go anywhere without Anthea. She’d kill anyone with a look and her pinky. Well, maybe more just a look. Gods know that I was intimidated by her when I tried to talk to Mycroft about a relationship and she thought I was doing something problematic.” He cleared his throat. “My point is, that, you should think about a deeper relationship. Otherwise, it could and will get messy. He’s not even been living with you a month and you already smell him?”

“More like a month and a half,” Sherlock said quietly. “And it was very subtle – started after I stormed in here the last time.” He shook his head. “There’s nothing to be done. He doesn’t want to be kept and I’m married to the work.”

“So don’t keep him and treat him like a human being. And if I can make time for one, you definitely can. Speaking of omegas, I think mine’s off the phone. You should go home to yours.” Greg led Sherlock towards the stairs, walking down with him and smiling at Anthea being there with a car. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome – I’ll make sure that he gets home safe,” Anthea said. 

Greg watched the car drive off and smiled as he felt Mycroft wrap his arms around him. “Hello love.”

“Why dark Belgian chocolate?”

Greg laughed. “You git, listening in.”

“I know. Answer the question?”

“It’s my favorite and yours. The rest… I dunno. Maybe it is a different chocolate, but I trust my nose.” Greg sighed. “Unless you’re going to tell me it’s not.”

“I can only smell what you smell like. Copper, mostly, but also rain and a very small hint of ink and gunpowder mixed together.”

Greg laughed. “So mostly a copper. You have no idea how much I like that.”

“I think I do.” Mycroft kissed Greg’s cheek. “So Sherlock can smell John.”

“And probably vice versa,” Greg said. “I’ll check in with John when I can.”

“Thank you.” Mycroft lead them back upstairs and to his suite of rooms. Dinner was laid out on a table with the silver domes still on top of them to keep the heat of the food in. He moved over to where he kept the liquor, pouring Greg a scotch before he got a glass of wine. He smiled at hearing Greg’s sigh of happiness at seeing steak and potatoes. “I do believe they knew you were coming and made one of your favorites, love.”

“I am going to have to thank them for this.” Greg cut into the steak and was quiet as he started to eat. He kissed Mycroft’s hand when Mycroft gave him the scotch but was quiet until he was done. To his surprise, Mycroft didn’t try and fill the silence and it was comfortable for the both of them. He sat back in his chair, smiling and just being relaxed. “Thank you.”

“I like taking care of you.”

Greg smiled at that and noticed that his omega was done eating too. “Bed?”

“What, you don’t want to sleep on the couch?”

“Makes our necks hurting like hell in the morning.” Greg got up and went over to Mycroft. He took Mycroft’s hand, turning it over and softly kissing the palm. “Unless you have ideas that you haven’t told me about.”

”Oh, I have ideas, my detective inspector. But the bed would be a lot better for both of us. It means that I can handcuff you to the headboard.”

“I thought it was your turn to be handcuffed.” He undid Mycroft’s cufflinks, setting them off on the table so they wouldn’t be lost. He then started to unbutton his omega’s shirt, kissing him passionately as he did so.

Mycroft kissed back with the same passion, pulling Greg closer to him. When they broke to breathe, he said “I thought we were going to bed?”

“Doesn’t mean we can’t undress out here,” Greg said with a grin. “I love seeing you naked.”

“Then let me get up and you can,” Mycroft countered.

Greg relented and let Mycroft up. He also let himself be led to the bedroom and he went to sit on the bed. He pulled Mycroft over to him, undoing the trousers and pulling down them and the pants underneath. He grinned as he saw that Mycroft was hard already. “How are you always hard for me?” he asked after kissing the tip of it.

Mycroft groaned softly. “Because I love the feel of your mouth. Let me – let me undress you before you do more?”

Greg smiled, getting up and letting Mycroft quickly undress him. He laughed as clothes were just thrown over a chair before sitting down on the bed and pulling Mycroft down. He waited a moment for Mycroft to get comfortable in the center of the bed with his head on the pillows. He just watched his love for a moment before moving and kissing him again. He kissed down Mycroft’s neck, gently biting on the shoulder before sucking on it. 

“God,” Mycroft groaned.

“Glad you like it,” Greg said before moving to kiss down Mycroft’s chest. He reached the tip of Mycroft’s cock and took it into his mouth. He let it touch the back of his throat for a moment before he started to suck. He let the length go all the way out, teasing the tip with his tongue before taking it back in. He did this for a bit as he listened to Mycroft getting louder. As he took his omega’s cock in his mouth one more time, he pushed a finger in and felt it come back wet. He grinned at that and started to go faster and harder with a sucking. He pushed two fingers into Mycroft’s ass and felt Mycroft come. He swallowed all of it before leaning back on his heels and catching his breath.

“You’re going to kill me one of these days,” Mycroft said as he tried to catch his breath as well.

“I haven’t even done the best part yet,” Greg replied as he stroked his own cock. He ran his hand over his knot as well. It didn’t grow, as his omega wouldn’t be in heat for another couple of weeks, but he felt himself wishing that it would. He kept on wanting to try, even though there would be little chance of any sort of success. “Tell me when you’re ready.”

Mycroft nodded, taking long breaths in and out as he lay there. “Ready,” he said.

Greg moved, slowly sliding himself in to Mycroft. He kissed his omega after reaching all the way in and stopping there, letting Mycroft feel the small knot staying on the outside.

“You – you need to – Gregory,” Mycroft moaned.

“Just two weeks and I’m going to shove it into you. Get you on your knees and make you beg for me to pound you into the bed. Make it so you can’t sit comfortable for a month in all those meetings that take you away from me,” Greg said in a low growl. “And you know why.”

“I’m yours,” Mycroft moaned. “Please, please fuck me,” he begged.

Greg started to slowly rock his hips before moving in and out. The two quickly set up a rhythm as he started to pound in and out of Mycroft, putting his hands on his omega’s hips to get some traction. “So close,” he said and came a few moments later. He held himself up for a moment before laying down on top of Mycroft. “Mine.”

“Always yours,” Mycroft whispered. He kissed Greg’s cheek before moving a bit and then hissing as his alpha pulled out of him. He reached into the side table, pulling out a small velvet boxes. “This is yours.”

Greg blinked and opened the box. Inside was a silver Claddagh ring with a diamond for the heart. “You didn’t have to do this,” he said.

“I wanted to,” Mycroft said. “Because, even though you’re the alpha, I wanted to propose when we were happiest. And in bed is some of the happiest times we have. So, Gregory Lestrade, will you marry me? Even though it’s just an institution and we’re already tied together in every other way?”

“Yes,” Greg said as he kissed Mycroft. He smiled as the ring was pushed onto his finger. “Wait here,” he said as he got up and moved to his coat. He came back with his own small silver box. “I was going to do this tomorrow, but you decided to go first.”

Mycroft took the box, opening to see a silver band with an inlay of small diamonds. “It’s beautiful.”

“It was my grandfather’s. My grandmother was very liberal and proposed to him. Turned out that he had the ring in his back pocket. So, seems like I’m following in their footsteps. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Neither would I.” Mycroft slipped on the ring and reached up, kissing Gregory before pulling him back into the bed. “So, when should we have the ceremony?”

“Maybe soon,” was the reply. Gregory snuggled up against Mycroft, pulling the cover up over them and falling asleep as he heard Mycroft answer the damn mobile. He let it go, falling into a deep and happy sleep.


	6. Sherlock Grumbling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set during Blind Banker. Please enjoy!

Sherlock wasn’t sure why he was moping. Maybe it was because he just sent off a text to Lestrade asking for a favor for John but that couldn’t be it. Lestrade was more than happy to do it and John wouldn’t have to show up in court. He made a note to mention it to John as he sat in his chair. His mind went back and forth from the case and John. John, who was at the stupid job where he met someone – of course he met someone – and who should be here working with him, was getting to be too much.

There was the fact that he was smelling the damn omega already, but glad that he didn’t bring that up. He suppressed the urge to throw a book at the wall or find John’s gun and shoot at the wall. An extreme option, but one that was sounding better by the day. Instead, he reached back into his mind and felt out the new connection in his mind. It wasn’t one that he made for his mind palace, that he knew for sure, but one that went from his mind to John. He knew that John hadn’t found it yet, otherwise they would have had a talk, so he decided to not say anything either.

He used it to see how John’s day was going. The last time that he checked, the doctor was asleep and he felt more than proud of himself. There had been the start of a nightmare, which would not do for John to have out in public, so he made sure that it never happened in the first place. It was easy enough to do and he made a mental note to do so the next time that John slept. However, it was a bit of a worry that there was a mental link.

Calling up what he hadn’t managed to delete when he first found the mental link, they usually didn’t happen until an alpha and omega were well established in a relationship. Meaning that the bond happened, some sort of ceremony of vows happened (idiotic), and there was either a child or the thought of a child on the way. During remembering this, he wondered if his brother had such a mental link with Lestrade. It would be something he would ask when he meant to throw either of them off guard and he smirked at thinking about their reactions. 

What this meant, of course, is that he was on a very dangerous path. John could easily become a liability, if he wasn’t already. A reasonable man would set the omega on a different path, make sure that he had everything he need to become the best doctor, and let him go. But he had never been a reasonable man and there was no reason to start now. Especially when it meant that he would be losing the one source that knew how to make a perfect cup of tea in all of England. Not that would be the only thing he missed, but it was what came to mind the most. That and seeing the doctor come out of the shower when he forgot clothes…

 _No. Not thinking about that. The case is more important._ He forced himself to get out of his chair and started to talk to himself about books. He tried the dictionary – stupid idea – and then the Bible – even more idiotic – and he was at another dead end. He ran his hands through his hair and said “We’re going out tonight. I need to get some air.”

John came over. “Actually, I got a date.”

Sherlock looked at John as he felt his stomach tighten. Of course, the one that given him the job at the surgery. Of course John would want to go out with her and see if she was a match. But it still hurt that John would even think of doing that. John belonged to him, damn it, and he needed to regain his ground. “What?” he asked, as he tried to cover his emotions.

“It’s where two people who like each other go out and have fun,” John explained.

“That’s what _I_ was suggesting,” Sherlock said. He kept the emotion off of his face, but he was hurt. That he couldn’t stop from feeling as he knew jealously took hold. He knew jealously from when he was younger and Mycroft got to do everything first. He got to go off to school first, got father’s love first, and everything else. He hadn’t blamed his older brother in years and now he wasn’t sure if he should thank Mycroft or not for teaching him the emotion. What he wanted to do now was to take John’s date and hide in her a spot not even Mycroft would find her with all the CCTV knowledge in the world.

“No it wasn’t,” John said. “At least I hope not.”

Sherlock’s eyes narrowed at hearing that. “Fine,” he snapped and looked away. “Where are you taking her?” If he knew that, then he could show up. He could do something. He wasn’t about to let this woman take his John away.

_…Wait. When did I ever start thinking that way?_

A softer voice laughed in Sherlock’s mind. The voice of his alpha self. _You really can never escape me. He’ll bend to you sooner or later or you’ll lose him. Considering that the two of you are mentally bonded first, you won’t lose him. Just don’t make him wait forever. Even soul mates lose patience._

 _Soul mates? That’s a fairy tale._ Sherlock mentally scoffed. His alpha self was also an idiot. Sad.

_And yet yours is right in front of you. Don’t muck it up._

Sherlock wondered absently why his alpha self sounded like Mycroft’s reasoning, but decided to ignore that for now. John was going to take his date to the cinema. Boring. Pedestrian, even, and he voiced that. He then gave John the information he tore off about the circus and planted the idea about going there. He listened to John phone in for the two tickets, waited until John had left, and called back to add on a ticket for himself. He muttered as his cell phone rang. “Sherlock Holmes.”

“You sound in a wonderful mood,” Lestrade said. “Is John around?”

“He’s going out on a date,” Sherlock grumbled.

“You’re letting him do that?”

“Why do you think I have the right to say what he can and cannot do?” Sherlock asked. “No, don’t answer that. I know what you mean. What do you want, Lestrade?”

“An update on how the case is going. Dimmock was muttering about how you’re an arse but he’s gone quiet on it. So I wanted to know what was happening,” Lestrade said.

“He’s below your intelligence in case you were wondering if I was going to replace you,” Sherlock said. This was a good of time as any to ask his question. “Do you have a mental link to Mycroft?”

The line on the other end went quiet for a long moment. “Yeah, just started. Why?”

“How long have the two of you been together?” Sherlock asked.

“A week less than how long I’ve known you,” Lestrade said. “I’m not going to go into when we bonded and so on.”

“Good, because I really don’t need to hear about my brother’s sex life,” Sherlock said. “I have to go – I have my own date.” He ended the call and got ready to leave the flat. He made sure that everything was in place before leaving and going to meet his omega and his date. He grumbled to himself as he thought of John as his once again but put it to the back of his mind. It was something to be thought of later, not now on a case, and just how he was going to make John see that being an omega wasn’t a bad thing after all.


	7. Date Night Is Never Normal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set after Blind Banker - hope you enjoy!

John woke up and his mind was on something that had been bothering him since they solved the case of the Blind Banker. He didn’t feel bad about taking the check – Sherlock didn’t want it after all – but there was the nagging thought at the back of his head that it wasn’t his. _Stupid morals_ he thought to himself as he lay in bed. He sighed and listened for the familiar crash or violin music but the flat was oddly silent. Silent was usually a bad thing, as it meant that something explosive was about to happen. So he got up and dressed, going out to the common area of the flat. However, Sherlock wasn’t there. His coat and scarf were gone from their hooks and his violin case was closed. He turned to the fridge and saw the note that was left for him.

_John – went to St Bart’s to work for a while. Will be back around supper. You should cash this. ~Sherlock._

Attached to the note were the checks from their last client. He flipped it over and saw that Sherlock signed it over to him. He smiled and opened the fridge, glad to see that the arm and leg from before was gone. As a bonus, the spots they were in were cleaned. “Even better,” he said. He looked around for something to eat in the mostly empty fridge and then remembered that he didn’t buy groceries. He closed the fridge, got a quick shower and clean clothes, grabbed the check, and went to the bank first. The checks were cashed easily and he went on his way to the shops. He got home with the shopping, putting it away as Sherlock walked into the flat.

“Did you buy out the place?” Sherlock asked. There were still some bags on the kitchen table, but it was the only other place to put them.

“No. We were just out of what is known as food.” John closed the fridge door and started putting away everything else, making sure that the tea was in proper order according to what they used first and then alphabetized. He stopped himself for a moment. “Huh.”

“What?”

“I think you’re rubbing off on me.” John turned to look at him. “As I usually don’t alphabetize the tea.”

“Or you’re learning better habits.” Sherlock hung up his coat and scarf, sitting down on the couch. “It is not a bad thing. It just makes it easier for both of us.”

John mentally agreed with Sherlock as he turned back to put the rest away. He folded up the bags, looking around for a spot for them. The last spot – hanging them on a drawer – was missing the stockpile of bags from before. “Um, Sherlock?”

“Mrs. Hudson put them in the closet,” Sherlock said.

“Thanks,” John said. He put away the bags and turned around to look at Sherlock. What he hadn’t noticed is that Sherlock was watching him. And it looked like he was watching since he sat down, which was a bit unusual. Usually there was a book that he hid behind when he did that. He was never so obvious. “You alright?”

“Yes,” Sherlock said. He reached over and retrieved one of the many books he was reading.

“Thank you, by the way,” John said.

“You needed it more than I do.”

“No, not just about that. About moving the body parts as well. That was… well, it was nice of you.” John licked his lips. He wasn’t sure why he struggled to say that.

“I thought that Molly would like to have a look as well. I was right.” Sherlock didn’t look up from his book.

“Oh.” John shrugged. “Well, I’m going out. You’ve got enough to cook yourself something.”

That made Sherlock look up from his book. “What?”

“I’ve got a date with Sarah. I told you yesterday and we’re not doing anything dangerous. Just food.”

“Considering your last date, do you think that’s the best?” Sherlock asked.

“We won’t be here to be kidnapped. I doubt that we’re going to be kidnapped by mad Italians, unless you’ve done something that I should be aware of?” John asked. When there was silence, he went on. “So, yes, just food and drink and I’ll either be home after or in the morning.”

“Considering your track record, I’ll see you after dinner.”

John bit his tongue, not wanting to get into an argument. He was having a good day and he was not about to spoil it. Not when he was going to have a very nice dinner out to complete his non-Sherlock day. “Do you want me to do anything before I go?”

Sherlock looked up from his book. It was a calculating look, as if he was thinking what would take the most time. “Tea would be fine.”

John breathed a sigh of relief and put the kettle on for tea. He poured more than enough water for Sherlock to just reheat the water and make himself more tea if he wanted it. He got down the tea that Sherlock liked and made a cup, taking it over and putting it down. “Plus there’s more water in the pot.”

Sherlock looked up and grabbed John’s wrist. “You don’t have to go.” 

There was a soft growl in his voice that made John shiver. It wasn’t a full growl command, as he heard Sherlock pull on Donovan, but one that gave him the option to do what he wanted. God, he wanted to give in and complete whatever Sherlock wanted to do to him. But the thought of Sarah, sitting there on her own, and thinking about what people would say. It made him reconsider. 

“Yes, I do.” His voice was barely audible. “I said I’d be there.” He tried to keep his heart from racing but it was hard to do. He could feel his body wanting to just give in to whatever the man wanted, but his mind was screaming out for it to stop.

“You can spare me at least five minutes.” His fingers gently massaged the wrist pulse point. 

“Alright. Five minutes. If you will please let go of my wrist,” John said and sat down next to Sherlock after the man let go of his wrist. And then he moved over a bit to give them both space. “What is it?”

“I just – I thought you should know that I wanted to help you out in other ways.”

“Other ways?” John asked, tilting his head in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“Not just with money. But if you – if you need help…” Sherlock looked like his tongue was being tied.

John blinked and then something clicked. “Oh. Sherlock – no, no.” He shook his head. “I don’t have heats. I’ve never had one and it’s been nearly two months living with you and one hasn’t come. There’s probably something wrong with me but I don’t really care in the end. So you don’t need to help with that. But… thank you. Thank you for offering, I think.”

Sherlock nodded. “It explains how you were able to pass as a beta for so long. Especially since you wouldn’t have passed the blood test with blockers in your system. You could go on them, if you don’t want my help.”

“I don’t need them. It’s not going to happen.” John paused for a moment and thought. “It’s strange, you offering, even though it’s – well, it’s sort of nice. Considering the speech you gave when we first had dinner at Angelo’s.”

“You’re a very interesting man, John Watson. Interesting enough for me to change a bit of my own rules.”

“Ah,” John said. “Anything else?”

“You don’t have to go out on a date,” Sherlock said.

“Well, I promised, so I do. I’ll be back later – remember to eat.” John got up from the couch and watched as Sherlock laid down.

“Eating is boring.”

“Well, do it for me then,” John said. 

Sherlock sighed. “Fine then.”

“Thank you,” John said. He left, grabbing his coat and not noticing he nearly toppled the coat rack. He didn’t stop to catch his breath until he was out on the street and leaned against the wall. That was not a conversation he ever thought he was going to have, much less agree that it was okay, and he was shaking. He took a deep breath before calling a taxi and going off to the restaurant for dinner.

*~*~*~*

John looked up from his salad as he heard his name. Sarah was talking about how her day went at surgery and… well, his mind was still back at the argument that never was with Sherlock. He didn’t even start to eat his salad, just pushing it around the plate with some kind of dressing. He put down his fork and looked up at Sarah. “Sorry; what were you saying?” He hoped that would be enough for her not to be too angry at him.

“I was trying to figure out if you’re alright,” she said. She reached out to take his hand and he flinched. “Which you’re not.”

“I – I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t know why I did that.”

“Fight with Sherlock?”

“No.” He sighed. “I think I need to find another place to live which isn’t going to be easy.”

“You can stay with me until you’re on your feet if you want.”

He smiled. “Thank you. I might take you up on that offer.” He relaxed and took her hand this time. “Especially with everything that’s happened.”

She chuckled. “If I minded, then we wouldn’t be having dinner.”

“Good point.” He sighed as he felt his phone buzz. “I thought I turned it off.” He used his free hand to dig it out of his pocket. He saw that it was a text from Sherlock and forced himself to turn off the phone completely. “There, all off.”

“You don’t have to do that for me.”

“I’m doing it for me,” he said. “I want to have a nice dinner with you. Even if I am horribly distracted. The only question is what dressing did I put on it in a bad state?”

“Balsamic.” She chuckled. “I was about to stop you, as I don’t think you like it.”

“I think it’s more the color than the taste.” He let go of her hand to pick at it before trying a bite. He wrinkled his nose before trying it again. “It’s growing on me.”

“More that you don’t like having food go to waste.”

“That too.” He ate most of the salad before putting it to the side. “So, what do you want to do after this?”

“Well, if you were listening before instead of being in your head, you would have heard that I have an early day tomorrow. So, it’s dinner and then off to bed with me. But you are more than allowed to walk me home. Just nothing extra.”

“I think I can do that,” he said. “How is it going there? I’m sorry I can’t pick up more shifts.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “You’re so tired sometimes that I’d rather you get the rest than getting sick yourself.”

“Still… if you want me to resign so you can get a full doctor in there, I don’t mind.”

“Nope,” she said. “I like having you there. Even if all you do is snore.”

He chuckled and then looked worried. “I snore?”

She laughed. “Not loudly. But yes, you do.”

“I might have to work on that.”

“You can’t work on an involuntary reflex,” she said. “Besides, I think it’s cute.”

“Well, then I’ll keep it,” he said. He looked to the waiter who came over to their table with a phone. “Yes?”

“My apologies, sir, but he said it was an emergency,” the waiter said

John sighed. “Yes?”

“You turned off your phone,” Sherlock said.

“You’re the one who made me turn it off in the first place. Is the flat on fire?”

“No,” Sherlock said.

“Are you bleeding so badly that you cannot remember how to dial emergency?”

“No,” Sherlock said. “But – “

“Then I will be home later and we’ll talk then.” He hung up the phone and gave it back to the waiter. “If he calls back, just say that we left.”

“That was impressive,” she said.

“I have to draw boundaries somewhere. It’s bad enough that he walks all over me at the flat. And there was the fact that he nearly growl commanded me tonight.”

She nodded. “Well, if you want to move in for a while, you’re more than welcome to. And he’s an alpha who isn’t getting what he wants. Of course he’s going to go for that.”

“Thank you. And he might be an alpha, but he’s not my alpha. I don’t want one and I really doubt I’m ever going to find one.” They sat in silence for a small bit until the waiters cleaned away the salads and brought out their dinner course. “At least he didn’t call back right away.”

“No, he let them serve the food so it would get cold,” she said as she pointed out the waiter coming back with a phone.

He raised an eyebrow at the waiter. “I thought – “

“It’s someone different this time, sir,” the waiter said and handed over the phone.

“Hello?” he asked.

“John? It’s Clara. We’re at the hospital, there was an accident. Drunk driver – not Harriet – and I’m fine. I tried calling your phone and it didn’t work, so I tried the flat and he’d said he ring you. Then he said he couldn’t get you and I called the restaurant.”

He paled. “Call the waiter over – I need to go.”

“What’s wrong?” She called over the waiter.

“My sister was in accident.” He gave his card to the waiter. “Which hospital are you at?” He listened to the answer before turning back on his phone. There was a missed call, only a minute after the text from Sherlock, and he mentally kicked himself for that. “Alright. I’ll be there as soon as I can be. And Clara, I’m sorry.”

“I know,” Clara said. “They’re calling me – I’ll see you soon.”

“Bye,” he said and hung up the phone. “You should stay and finish your meal.”

“I don’t mind coming with you.” She got up to leave with him as soon as he signed the check. They went out to the street and John was about to call a cab when he saw a black car with the familiar texting woman standing outside of it. “Sarah,” he said, taking her hand and leading her over. “Evening.”

“Evening sir,” the woman said, opening the door for him, and letting them in. It was a very fast drive to the hospital as the black car was equipped with lights. 

“How do you know her?” Sarah asked.

“She’s an employee of Sherlock’s brother.”

“There’s two of them?” she asked.

“Older brother is very different in some ways.” He got out of the car and looked back at Sarah. “Sarah, I really am sorry. She’ll take you home and I’ll call you as soon as I can.”

Sarah nodded, moving over and kissing him before letting him go.

John ran into the hospital, stopping at the desk to find out where they moved Harry. He went up to the right floor, running to the waiting area and saw Clara. He gave her a hug. “Any updates?”

“She’s in surgery. Other than that…” Clara sniffled. “I don’t know what I’m going to do if I lose her.”

John mentally agreed with her and settled in to wait. He must have fallen asleep at some time, only waking up when he felt someone put a blanket over him. He looked up at seeing Mycroft. “Thank you for the ride earlier.”

“You’re welcome,” Mycroft said. “I hear that the two of you are having problems.”

“Not really,” John said as he slowly sat up. He rubbed his neck and looked around. “Where’s Clara?”

“With Harriet. She’s going to be fine. A few pins in her leg, but otherwise, she’ll live.”

John breathed a sigh of relief at hearing that. “Thank everything.”

“Yes,” Mycroft said. “So, about you and Sherlock.”

“There’s nothing wrong. It’s just Sherlock being himself. Nothing I can’t handle.” John sighed. “Save for his complete change of character, I guess.”

“What do you mean?” 

John debated about this but then thought it would be best to explain to someone. “When we first met… he said he was married to his work. And I do believe him. But he’s gotten more possessive over time and – well – “

“You’re not gay.”

John could have sworn there was a bit of mockery there. “Yes.”

“That doesn’t matter in the end.”

“Why did I think I would get a different answer?” John asked.

“You have to think of it on my end. I want my brother to be happy. Considering his moods, he is actually happy. But if you are not, then you need to change yourself. You’re not about to change him.”

“I’m thinking of moving out.” John was wondering why the hell he just admitted that.

“I say give it some time. You forget the power that omegas have, John.”

John made a scoffing noise. “What power?”

“The power to say no. Or did you not listen in biology class?”

“No, I did,” John said. “I just always thought it was something to make omegas feel better about themselves. And since I thought I would never need it, I chose not to believe it.”

“Well, think about what happened tonight between the two of you.”

John did think back. “He let go of my wrist because I said please? That’s… nothing about any of this makes sense. Alphas take what they want. Just because an omega says no doesn’t make any difference.”

“It does, but sometimes there is too much going on to fully understand.” Mycroft reached into a pocket of his suit and handed John a card. “For when you want to talk about it more. It’s a private number. I’ve been living as an omega all my life, even though I was raised with alpha leanings. Considering what you know about me, does that seem plausible?”

“No.” John did take the card. “How do you live with it?”

“Greg lets me be in charge from time to time. Others know not to press me because I’ll just press back harder.”

“Greg?” John thought for a moment. “You and Lestrade?”

“I blame my idiot brother. And now I have paid him back,” Mycroft said. “Is there a different smell in the flat?”

“Yeah, around Sherlock. Cinnamon, violin resin, and a very slight bit of antiseptic mixed with menthol,” John replied. “Why?”

“Just a thought. Good evening, John.”

“Evening Mycroft,” John said. He looked at the card in his hand and pocketed it. He wasn’t all that sure about what Mycroft meant at the end, but curled up under the blanket. “Shit,” he muttered as he realized what he said about the smell. It wasn’t that long that Clara came back to find him and he went to the room to see Harry. He smiled at her and sat down next to the bed. 

“Shut up,” Harry said.

John could only laugh.

“Some brother you are. Laughing at my misfortune. Did I laugh at you when you got shot?”

“No, sorry, you didn’t,” John said. “I’m just glad that you aren’t hurt and that the other driver is going to live.”

“Good,” Harry said. “I’ve been sober since you were shot.”

John blinked. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Harry said. “I had to do something and Clara was getting to her wits end. So I quit and have been off of it. I just didn’t mention anything but it never felt or seemed like a big deal. But, that’s enough of that. Your blog is interesting and how are you and your alpha getting along?”

John sighed. “He’s not my alpha. I’m not gay.”

“Don’t have to be gay to like a guy who looks like that,” Harry said. 

“Don’t let Clara hear you say that,” John countered.

“She knows that I love her and only her,” Harry said. “Let me ask you this – are you smelling anything different?”

“Yeah, so?” John asked. “You’re the second one to bring that up.”

“Well, let me spell it out for you then, you git. It means that whoever you smell is your alpha, no matter what. Hell, I smelled Clara and I’m a fucking beta. So you need to get over yourself and realize that you’re stuck.”

“No I’m not,” John said. “Can always move out.”

“To where?” Harry asked. “And who says that he’ll let you?”

“He could have ordered me tonight and he didn’t.” John tried to squash down the upset that his stomach was making when he felt a warm presence hug him. There was no physical hug, but it calmed him down. He tried to feel where it came from and only got that it was somewhere in the back of his mind. Maybe he even imagined it, but he could swear that he smelled cinnamon. “Well, when you get out, I’m coming home with you and Clara. Just for a bit to make sure that you’re okay. Doctor’s orders.”

“Deal,” Harry said. “We get to throw you out when we decide though.”

“Deal,” John said with a smile. He took the cup of coffee that Clara brought him and relaxed into his chair as he heard the two talk. He put all thoughts of Sherlock being his alpha and that he was in deep shit off for now. He was just going to be with his family and focus on them with all of his being.


	8. I Hate Biology

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set between Blind Banker and Great Game. Going off of the canon timeline for a couple of chapters.

Sherlock lay on the couch, looking up at the ceiling with his hands folded as he went through his mind palace again. He was going through the wing that John took over when there was the sound of a knock on the door. He ignored it, going over the facts as he tried to figure out when John was going to come home. It had been a week and, while he was out helping Lestrade with a case, John snuck in and got clothes and his laptop. The fact that John left his favorite mug sparked hope that his omega would come back home in the end. That and he left his favorite lumpy sweater, which was on Sherlock’s bed at the moment.

He raised an eyebrow as he heard a key being used by the person who knocked and clicked off the people who would be there. It could either be Mycroft or Lestrade and he hoped for the latter. If only because he might growl command his own brother into telling him everything that was happening with John. He never saw an alliance forming between the two omegas, but there it was. He lifted his head to see Lestrade come in and lowered it. “What?”

“You’re not answering your texts,” Lestrade said. “Considering that I sent you one about a seven, I got worried. So I came to see if you’re alright.”

“I’m fine.”

“Sure you are.” Lestrade crossed the room and sat down in Sherlock’s chair. “Just say you’re sorry for whatever you did.”

“Not that easy.”

“John will understand. Especially when he learns that he affects you enough to make you ignore your phone.” Lestrade sighed. “Unless it’s worse than that.”

“Of course it’s worse. He doesn’t want an alpha or to really be an omega. He wants to move out.”

“Nobody told you to go slow, did they?” Lestrade asked.

“Why would I do that?”

Lestrade blinked. “Because nobody likes to just be dragged into a relationship.’

“You went willingly enough.”

“Yeah, well Mycroft has his own tricks,” Lestrade said. “Plus, he’s comfortable being an omega. We both know that John isn’t. If you were trying to pull and didn’t get that he was stepping back, I’m not surprised that he isn’t here.”

“He doesn’t want me,” Sherlock whispered.

“Yeah, well he doesn’t have a choice,” Lestrade said and sighed. “None of us do with this damned thing. Freaking Yanks, thinking they can solve everything with a bomb.”

“The rest of the civilized world agreed with it.” Sherlock slowly sat up and shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

Lestrade stared at him.

“What?”

“When’s the last time you ate?” Lestrade asked.

Sherlock was about to answer but just swallowed hard. “Not sure.”

“You’ve really got to take better care of yourself.” Lestrade went into the kitchen, putting on the kettle for tea and started to make some toast. He heard his own cell phone ding with a text message but he ignored it for the moment. He put the plate of toast into Sherlock’s hands and the tea down on the table. He smiled as Sherlock ate all of the toast. “More?”

“Yeah,” Sherlock said. He leaned back on the couch and looked to the door as he heard someone come into the front hall of 221B. He let go of a breath as he realized that it was Mycroft. He got up and went over to the door, grabbing his brother by the collar and dragged him inside. He slammed Mycroft against the wall. “Where the hell is he?”

“Why do you think I know anything, dear brother?” Mycroft asked. He shook his head no to Greg as he came over. “He texted me to check the cameras in the flat if you were here. I said you weren’t and he texted his thanks. That is all I know.”

Sherlock’s eyes narrowed but he let go of Mycroft and stepped back. “Fine.” He went back over to the couch and sat back down, putting his head in his hands. “Why are you here then?”

Mycroft raised an eyebrow before sitting down in the chair he usually took – John’s chair – and put his umbrella to the side. “I was also asked to check on you. He’s not completely uncaring.”

“You like this.”

“I don’t,” Mycroft said. “You went too far too fast and you know it.”

“Your alpha already gave that advice, thanks,” Sherlock said as he lay down to sulk.

“He’s spent his entire life as a beta and only a small bit of time as an omega. He’s going to have issues. For you to think that you can be the one to fix those issues is arrogant.”

“I fixed his limp,” Sherlock said.

“Which was psychosomatic.” Mycroft smiled as Greg handed him a cup of tea and then put down a plate of toast in front of Sherlock. “It was going to go away, given time.”

“Time that he wouldn’t have given himself.” Sherlock sat up and ate the second plate of toast. “You know that as well as I do. I was and am the answer to a lot of problems in his life. What I don’t understand is why he doesn’t just accept it.”

“Because you’re too much,” Lestrade answered. “Jesus, Sherlock, even I can’t take you sometimes. Think about that 24/7 and not to another alpha but to an omega. Someone who has to take it because there’s no other route for them, not when you decided to attach yourself. You won’t let go of them, not for a minute to let them breathe.”

Sherlock was about to say something else when he heard the door to 221B open. His eyes turned to the door but looked away as he realized it was Mrs. Hudson. “I can’t take this.” He got up and walked into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him. Lestrade and Mycroft could show themselves out, save if Mycroft wanted something, which was likely. He looked to his cell phone on the bedside table and checked his text messages. He smiled as he saw one from John from two hours ago.

_I’m going to be needed at my sister’s. I also need space – I’ll be back, but I can’t say for how long. JW_

Sherlock took a deep breath. Coming back at all was a small victory for him. _Thank you. Did you text Lestrade? – SH_

It took a moment for another text to come back. _Yeah. You weren’t answering and I was worried. JW_

Sherlock smiled at that. _You could have called. – SH_

_I could call now if you wanted. JW_

Sherlock debated on that. He wondered if the growl would work at all over the phone and then shook his head. No, he couldn’t do that. John would just stay away longer or not come back at all. He couldn’t have that. _No. I wouldn’t be nice and you don’t need that. When will you be back? – SH_

It took a few minutes for the text to come back. _Harry got discharged today. I’ll be at their house until they either kick me out or six weeks are up. Figure that Clara would want to go to work and just easier to keep Harry out of trouble._

And then there was another text right after that. _I also need to clear my head and figure myself out. You know it’s me and not you, right? JW_

Sherlock chuckled. _Far too easy to deduce. – SH_

_Yeah, but you still worried. At least, I hope you did. JW_

Sherlock debated being honest for a moment and thought it might help. _I just ate for the first time in I don’t know how long. Of course it hurt, but you’ll be back. – SH_

_Yeah, I’ll be back. Again, not sure for how long, but we’ll figure something out. Be careful with me gone. JW_

_Promise. – SH_ He pocketed his phone before going back out to the living room, feeling a lot better. “The both of you can go home. Also, Lestrade, I’m taking a break unless there’s a 9 or 10.”

Lestrade looked confused. “Why?”

“Considering his better mood, John texted and asked him to stay safe. He promised he would.”

“Must you always be right?” Sherlock asked of Mycroft as he went over to the couch. “Fine, yes, that is the reason. And I don’t know when he’ll be back and it seems odd to solve anything without him. So, yes, no cases unless – “

“Unless 9 or 10, got it.” Lestrade looked to Sherlock’s kitchen. “You got shit in for food.”

Sherlock was about to say something else when his phone dinged. He pulled it out and rolled his eyes at the text. “Fine. I’ll get some things in. Or ask Mrs. Hudson.”

“John ordered you to eat.” Mycroft looked amused.

“Oh shut up.”

“Make me,” Mycroft said.

“Children, the both of you.” Lestrade sighed. “What are you doing for dinner tonight?”

“Chinese or Indian.” Sherlock raised an eyebrow. “I am not eating with the both of you.”

“As much as I want to, I have business to attend to,” Mycroft said. “Do be nice to him. He’s going to be your brother-in-law soon.”

“If anything, that means I get to treat him worse.”

“There’s worse?” Lestrade muttered as he took the dishes into the kitchen.

“Be nice,” Mycroft said.

“Fine.” Sherlock sighed as he got out his phone. _Going out to dinner with Lestrade and will ask Mrs. Hudson to get food in. Good enough? – SH_

_Yes and thank you. JW_

Sherlock smiled and looked up, surprised to see that Mycroft was gone already. “You’re on call tonight,” he said to Lestrade.

“Yep,” Lestrade said. “But I’m always on call.”

“Do you like it?”

Lestrade raised an eyebrow. “You’re full of surprises tonight.”

“What?”

“You’ve never really asked me personal questions,” Lestrade pointed out. 

“Well, you’ve always been a friend and not family.” Sherlock got up and got his coat, putting it and his scarf on before heading out the door. He smiled at the shock he put into Lestrade as the man caught up to him. “Your car or taxi?”

“My car,” Lestrade said. “And I never saw myself being anything else, save for going into the military like John.”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” Sherlock said.

“Are you?”

“Yes,” Sherlock said. “If you had, I would have to put up with idiots like Dimmock.”

“God forbid.” They both got into the car and Lestrade drove them to a Chinese place that was near the Yard. It got Sherlock’s approval and they were shown to a table out of the way. “You order what you want. My treat.”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”

“Yes.” Lestrade picked up the menu and scanned it. “Pot stickers and egg rolls?”

Sherlock nodded a yes. “Then just shrimp fried rice for me and tea.”

“Alright,” Lestrade said. He ordered when the waiter came home and the tea was served quickly after that. He poured for both of them and smiled as Sherlock’s phone dinged. “Go ahead and answer. Better for him not to worry.”

“It makes me feel better that he did worry,” Sherlock said. “Is it wrong to want him so much?”

“No,” Lestrade said. “If anything, it’s normal.”

Sherlock nodded, looking down into his tea with a lost look on his face. “I never thought I would find an omega. Truthfully, I never wanted one until I met John. Now, I’d do anything to keep him. I’d kill for him. He’s already done so for me.”

“Sherlock…” Lestrade sighed. “Best thing to do is to give him what he asks for. Respect his space and his privacy. Only text him after he’s texted you first. Let him get sleep and, if I need you for a case, that should be the only time that you text him first. Accept a no if he gives you one and don’t press like you normally do. It’s going to be hard, but you can do it. I know you can. You did one of the hardest things in the world – you beat your addiction – so I know you can do this. I believe in you.”

Sherlock nodded, taking a long sip of tea before looking at his phone.

_What are you having? JW_

_Chinese, what else? Lestrade knows a place – I’ll take you when you come back if you want. ~ SH_ He put his phone on the table and sighed. “Thank you.”

“Well, you’re my friend. I just didn’t know you felt the same way,” Lestrade said.

“Do you know what really scares me? A bit that John might completely leave, but more that it seems like he’s friends with Mycroft. That Mycroft might know something I don’t and he won’t tell me. He’ll make me figure it out by myself and it’s not fair. He’s my friend first. My omega too.”

“John’s allowed to have friends. Hell, you’re even allowing him to have a girlfriend with that Sarah.” Lestrade winced as he saw a dark look show up on Sherlock’s face. “You hate it.”

“I hate her and the fact that she might take him away,” Sherlock said. “If she tries, I’ll slap the law down on her so fast her head will spin. And to hell if John hates me for it.”

Lestrade sighed. “You didn’t listen to me at all.”

“I did, but this is different.”

“If you say so,” Lestrade said. The two sat in quiet, sipping at tea with Sherlock answering texts until the food came. He evenly split everything and gave Sherlock a look when the man tried to protest. “All of it.”

 _Lestrade is trying to kill me with egg rolls and pot stickers. –SH_. He sighed and started to eat.

_Gladly change places with you. Clara made chicken and rice. Bland diet to help Harry. JW_

Sherlock wasn’t sure if he should be happy with that or not. _Change places with Lestrade and I’ll agree. –SH_

_Ha, ha. Not on his life. Besides, this is going to do both of us good. JW_

Sherlock sighed and put down the phone. He turned his attention to the food and quickly emptied his plate. “Oddly didn’t feel like I was eating.”

“It’s light food, for a Chinese restaurant, but extremely good.”

Sherlock nodded. “So, have you two set a date?”

“Not yet,” Lestrade said. “Be my best man.”

“Done.” _Mycroft and Lestrade are getting married. Going to be best man for Lestrade. –SH_

Lestrade smiled. “Thank you.”

_You are? That’s nice of you. A bit good. JW_

_Only a bit? –SH_ Sherlock grinned. “You’re welcome.”

“John said something funny?”

“Just – yes.” Sherlock put down the phone and poured himself another cup of tea. “Maybe distance is better for us. He seems happier and more willing to talk to me through the phone than face to face.”

“Just give him time,” Lestrade said. “Are you sure you don’t want me to give you any cases?”

“Yes,” Sherlock said. “Even though he was the one to leave, it’s the one thing that we have together that works. He’ll feel even more betrayed and that I can just replace him. Or not replace him.’ _Why are we better through text? –SH_

_Breathing room. Plus, you’re nicer when texting. JW_

_That can easily change. – SH_

_Please don’t. JW_

Sherlock sighed and banged the phone on the table. “I hate biology.”

“You and a lot of others, mate.” The food came, being set down in front of them, and Lestrade started eating immediately.

Sherlock looked at the food and then at the phone. _Why are you scared? – SH_ He set the phone back down, picking at his fried rice for a bit before starting to eat a bit of it. He managed three bites before he pushed it away. “I’ll take the rest home,” he said to Lestrade’s look. 

“Alright.” Lestrade didn’t press for more, just ate about half of his, and the waiter brought over takeaway boxes. 

Sherlock’s phone started to ring and he looked down. “Do you mind if I take it?”

“Nope,” Lestrade said. “I’ll meet you out front.”

“Thanks,” Sherlock said as he picked up the phone and answered. “Sherlock Holmes.”

“I know who I’m calling, thanks,” John said on the other end.

Sherlock’s heart leaped at hearing John’s voice. “Could have fooled me.”

“Be nice or I’ll end the call,” John said. “I’m not scared.”

“Again, could have –“

“Shut up,” John said. “I’m not scared of you. I’m afraid of me and what it’s going to do to me. Which I don’t think you’ll understand, but I want you to think about it for a bit Sherlock. And when you think that you have figured it out, you can text me again. But not until then, understand?”

And Sherlock’s heart sank again. “Do you hate me that much?”

“No,” John said. “I am not sure of anything but the fact that I do not hate you and that you’re my friend. But I need the breathing room to figure out what I really want to do. If it was up to me now, I’d just move out to spare the both of us. But somehow that doesn’t feel right. Also, just because I’m thinking of moving out doesn’t mean that I actually will. I’ve been looking at places here and there, but none of them feel like home.”

“What is home, to you?”

“Right now, Harry and Clara’s. Tomorrow, even my old place might seem more like home,” John said. 

“You move back there and I’m never giving your gun back.”

There was a long pause on John’s end of the line. “Do you really think that I would do that?”

“I’m not sure what you would do right now. I just know that I can’t go through losing you permanently like that.”

“I’m not going to,” John said. “I promise that I won’t. I swear. Just – breathing room, okay? And you’ll figure it out soon.”

“How do you know?”

“Because you’re brilliant,” John said. “I got to go.”

“Goodbye John,” Sherlock said as he hung up. He leaned against the building, turning his cheek to the cold brick as he willed himself not to cry. He hated his body, the biological rules that they were held to, if only because it was pushing John away from him. His blogger, his everything, and biology was fucking it up. Well, biology and Mycroft with whatever he was doing as well. As soon as Greg came out, his face was back to being a blank mask. He didn’t talk on the way home, taking his leftovers and going upstairs to an empty flat. He put the food away before going up to John’s room and curling up on the bed. He hugged John’s pillow to his body, taking in the scent, and falling into a deep sleep.


	9. Bit of a Resolution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still between Blind Banker and Great Game. Still being completely AU from the timeline. Please enjoy. :)

John woke up around seven to his phone buzzing. He hoped, for a moment, that it was a text message, but it was just his alarm to tell him to get up. It was three weeks since he called Sherlock and there wasn’t a response back yet. He wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or not and nearly texted Sherlock last night. He resisted, just going to sleep instead, and there was still nothing. He sighed as he lay in bed, listening to the quiet in the house, and wanting violin music. Or a crash from the kitchen area or someone talking loudly without a care for the rest of the people who lived there. _Never thought I would miss it_ he thought as his phone rang. “John Watson,” he answered.

“Hey, it’s Sarah.”

“Oh. Hi,” John said.

“Did I wake you?”

“No, just getting up,” John said. “How are you?” 

“Good. Listen, I know it’s your day off, but would you mind coming in? I just had two others call off and I could really need the help.”

“Let me check,” John said and grabbed a pocket calendar on the table. He and Clara coordinated their schedules so Harry wouldn’t have to be home alone. She could coordinate herself on the crutches, but they both felt better if someone was home with her. He smiled as he saw that Clara had the day off and he could go in. “Yeah, I can come in. See you around nine?”

“Perfect. How’s your sister?”

“She’s doing well,” John said. “That’s what I had to check on – we’re not really leaving her alone. The meds make her a bit loopy and we worry less that way.”

“Makes sense to me. How’s Sherlock taking you being away?”

John was quiet for a moment. “I don’t know.”

“He’s not contacted you?”

“Just once and… well, I think it’s a bit my own fault,” John said. “Then again, I didn’t think he’d actually listen to me.” He sighed. “You probably don’t want to hear this.”

“It’s alright.”

“No, it’s not,” John said. “I’m sorry, Sarah.”

“It’s not your fault. And I’ve got to go – see you at nine?”

“Yep, see you then,” John said and hung up. He looked at the phone and saw a message there. He smiled as he saw it was from Sherlock and scanned it.

_You’re scared because it’s too much too fast. I don’t have a speed other than fast. – SH_

John sighed. Three weeks and that was his answer? _Points for half credit. JW_ He threw the phone on the bed, getting up and going through his morning routine as he heard either Clara or Harry wake up. The phone buzzed again with another text message but he ignored it until he was fully dressed. 

_You put too much stock in labels. They never matter in the end, not when it comes to this. You should ask your sister. – SH_

John just stared at the phone, starting to wonder why he even tried to make Sherlock understand. He didn’t answer that text, instead making sure that he had what he needed for work. As he went to the kitchen, his phone buzzed again with a message.

_When are you coming home? I need a case. – SH_

John blinked at that message, putting on water for tea before sitting down. _So call Lestrade. JW_

_Told him that I wasn’t taking a case unless 9 or 10 until you came back. Thought it would not be good. – SH_

John couldn’t help but laugh at that. _You are oddly sentimental sometimes. JW_

_Don’t be insulting. I am never sentimental – SH_

“You sound happy for once,” Harry said as she came into the kitchen. 

John got up, moving a chair so she could sit down easily. “Just Sherlock.”

“He finally texted you? Good.” Harry relaxed into the chair and looked at him. “Are you two patching things up?”

“Who says there’s anything to patch?” John asked.

“You’ve been looking at the part of the newspapers for a new apartment,” Harry said. “Or so Clara says. So I’m wondering what your alpha did that makes you want to move out.”

John blinked and was grateful that the kettle sounded that it was ready. He kept his back to her as he made tea for both of them. “He’s not my alpha.”

“Then how do you explain the tension being down from last time?” Harry asked. “Clara hasn’t looked at you more than once.”

“I’ve only known him a few months,” John said. “Why does everyone think that it’s just going to happen? Maybe I don’t want it. Maybe he doesn’t want it. Just because it says that it has to happen doesn’t mean that it will.” He came back with the tea and sat back down. “I’ve got a shift today at nine.”

“Alright,” she said and sipped at the tea. “You know I’m right.”

He sighed. “How did you know?”

“There are so many things that could be answered by that.”

He smiled. “How did you know you’re gay?”

“When I kissed a guy and it didn’t feel right. But when I kissed another woman, it felt perfect. It felt like it was meant to be. And I’ve always been interested in women, since I was a kid, so it was kind of meant to be. That’s not to say that there haven’t been guys that I think are hot. Johnny Depp for example. There was a kid in high school that I thought was going to be the one to change everything. But he got put away for assault on his mum and that was that.” She shrugged. “There’s been others, but yeah, mostly women for me.”

He nodded. “I’m just so confused about it all.”

“I think that’s your problem. You’re trying to think it out too much. Sometimes you have to just go with it. You of all people know life is way too short for pussy footing around.”

The grip around his cup tightened as he finished the rest of his tea. “I’ve got to go.”

“It’s only eight.”

“Yeah, way too early for an argument,” he explained. He got his coat and shoes, grabbing his things before stepping out. He winced at the pain in his leg as he walked down the few steps, slowly walking up to the main road to hail a cab. He sighed as he saw one of Mycroft's cars pull over to him and he got in. “Morning,” he said to Mycroft and nodded to Anthea in the front. “There are days that I’m happy that you like watching all the cameras in London.”

“Not all of them,” Mycroft said as he finished up a text and looked up at John. “How’s Harriet?”

“Healing,” John said. “How’s Sherlock?”

“Worried. And bored, but that’s nothing that can’t be fixed.”

John nodded as he turned to look at the parts of the city that they were driving past. “How did you know?”

“Unlike you, women never appealed to me,” Mycroft said. “The one you should really be asking is Greg. He was married before I came into his life and messed it up. Even though he says that it was failing long before I came into the picture.”

“Right.” John sighed. “He’s not the easiest one to live with. Or care about. Or anything else. But yet I can’t see myself anywhere but Baker Street. And he seems to understand some sort of boundary.”

“Are you so sure?”

John looked to Mycroft. “I’d like to believe I am.”

“It’s not going to be easy. But life never is.”

John chuckled. “Yeah.” He was grateful that Mycroft was quiet for the rest of the drive with Anthea pulling up outside of the surgery. “Thanks for the ride.”

“You’re more than welcome,” Mycroft said.

John walked into the surgery, trying to hide the limp but it hurt too much to walk normally. He was grateful that he could just go into his office and sit down. “Yeah?” he called to the knock at the door. He smiled at seeing Sarah come in. “Hi.”

“Hi – saw you come in,” Sarah said as she came over and sat down on the desk close to him. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” he said automatically.

“You were limping.”

“Happens time to time,” he said. “Weather mostly. Annoying older sister other times.” He looked at her and tried to take her hand but she shyed away. “This isn’t going to be a good conversation, is it?”

“Not really. I do want to stay friends.”

“I’d like to as well, if you let me,” he said. “We don’t really have to do this now, either.”

“Yeah, we do.” She pulled out a couple folded pieces of paper and handed it to him. “A friend of mine gave me this after I told her about you. More to tell me to be careful than anything else, I guess. But I don’t want you hurt and I don’t have any sort of money to get a lawyer.”

He unfolded it and his stomach folded over. The papers outlined the law of alphas over omegas and betas, staying that, if an alpha decided on an omega, bonded or not, that it was the alpha’s word over anybody else. Save for another alpha, of course, but they had their own ways of settling it. “I think I’m going to be sick,” he whispered.

She handed him a glass of water. “Drink that slowly.”

He did as instructed, feeling a bit better. “But Sherlock wouldn’t. He knows how I feel about all of this.”

“I know, but I just can’t chance it.” She sighed. “You’re sweet, John. And he’s a very lucky man to have you.”

“We don’t have to break up,” he said and raised an eyebrow as there was a banging on the door. “Should we be open?”

“No,” she said as she got up with him following close behind her. “Yes?” She asked through the intercom.

“This is DI Lestrade. Sorry for the banging, but I have an injured forensic office and I was wondering if you would look at him.”

John unlocked the door of the clinic himself and helped Lestrade pull Anderson in. “His nose is broken.”

“No shit,” Anderson said angrily. “I want to file a complaint.”

“You can, but he’ll just file against you and I’d support his. You were an idiot,” Lestrade said.

“What else is new?” John asked. “Sarah, I’ll take care of them.”

“You don’t want help?” Sarah asked.

“If I do, I’ll shout,” John said. He led Greg and Anderson back to the exam room that was connected to his office. “Sit there.” He pointed to the cot in the room.

“I don’t care if he files against me. He was going to come unhinged at some time.”

“With you and Donovan goading him on, I’m not surprised,” Lestrade said. “You got what you deserved and, if I wasn’t a better man, I would have left you there to deal with your own nose.”

John looked over the nose, touching it carefully and giving Anderson a look when he tried to move. “This is going to hurt,” he said before quickly cracking the nose back into position. He wasn’t surprised when Greg winced and Anderson cried out in pain. It felt satisfying and there was a knock at the door. “Mind getting that?” he asked of Lestrade.

“Nope,” the DI said and went to get the door.

“He’s right, you know,” John said. “And it could have been worse – he only went for your nose. Next time, might be your jaw and you’d be eating out of a straw.” He used a bit of gauze to clean up the bit of blood that was left over before cleaning up the rest of the nose. He then wrote out a prescription for pain killers. “Have Donovan take you home – you’re going to be out for the rest of the day.”

Anderson gave John a dark look but nodded a yes. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. Ever.” John turned away to clean up the area and turned around to see Anderson close to him. He didn’t even think, bringing up his knee to the man’s groin and then taking out his legs to send him crashing to the floor. That brought Donovan and Lestrade into the exam area and he took a shaky breath. “Please get him out of here,” he said to Donovan.

“Yeah,” Donovan said, moving over to Anderson to help him up. She quickly left with him and John tried to catch his breath.

“John?” Greg asked after a few minutes of quiet.

“He was too close,” John whispered.

“Alright,” Greg said. “Listen, can I take you home or something? Maybe being out and about today isn’t a good idea.”

“Can’t. Sarah’s short staffed.”

Greg nodded. “I could text Mycroft and he would lend you Anthea for the day.”

“No.” John bit his lower lip. “Did Sherlock break Anderson’s nose?”

“Yeah,” Greg said. “After Donovan gave Sherlock a bit of abuse about chasing you off. He just couldn’t hold it in anymore. I shouldn’t have called him in, but anything with kids is an automatic 9, even if it gets boring after he sees the crime scenes.”

John nodded. “He’s that bad off?”

“First time that he’s shown it,” Greg said. “He’s used to people running away, but you seemed like you were going to stay. So he’s hurt and lashing out. He’s been vicious to Mycroft, more than I ever seen him before. He hasn't to me because he’s afraid I’d cut him off. But I wouldn’t – I understand what he’s going through.”

“You do?”

“Yeah,” Greg said. “When Mycroft and I first started off, it wasn’t all sunshine and fluffy bunnies. We had our rough spots and he said things that were extremely hurtful. I think he wanted to see when I’d break. Those were the times that I was horrible to be around because I didn’t want to hurt him. I wanted to hurt others, so I did, but I was forgiven. Mostly because I usually get drunk and into bar fights. You just set a bone in the most painful way and then take the same man down in two blows.”

“Wasn’t sporting – I hit his groin first.” John sighed. “I’m not gay.”

“Neither am I. There’s this thing called bisexual, even if it’s only for one guy. Sexuality isn’t all black and white, but a series of grays.”

“That sounds like Mycroft,” John said, amused.

“Well, he’s right. You and I know that.”

John nodded. “So, just for one guy, but if he wasn’t there?”

“If he wasn’t there, I’d still be trying to work it out with my ex or trying to find someone new. And no, it wouldn’t be someone male.”

“Alright,” John said. “It doesn’t help that Sherlock is intense.”

“No, it doesn’t, but you’re the first real relationship for him. He also doesn’t have any other speed but fast. And speaking of him, I should go track him down and make sure he didn’t break his hand. If I do and bring him in, will you see him?”

John nodded. “Alright. What was the case, with the kid?”

“Thanks,” Greg said as he got up. “Kid was murdered and it also looked like there was sexual abuse as well. It was just staged that way and Sherlock thinks it’s the older brother.”

“He’s right.”

“You know that and I know that, but I’ve got to get evidence,” Greg said. “See you in a bit?”

“Yep,” John said and got ready for his first patients of the day. The day went by quickly until three when there was a bit of a break. He went to get tea from the break room and saw Greg come in with Sherlock. He turned and walked over to them, motioning for them to follow back to his office. “Exam room, you,” he said to Sherlock.

Sherlock went quietly into the exam room, sitting down on the cot without being told. “Heard you set his nose.”

“Heard you were the one to break it in the first place.” John gently lifted up the hand with the skin broken over the knuckles. “Need to clean that. Anything hurt?”

“Not in the hand.”

John looked up at Sherlock, noticing that the consulting detective looked even thinner and sleep deprived than normal. “You’re not eating.”

“I am.”

“Not normally.” John gently let go of the hand, getting what he needed to clean the cuts. 

“Cooking’s not as good as yours. Neither is the tea.”

“I’m not a domestic,” John said.

“Never said you were. Just that I like your tea.”

John smiled at that. “Did you really need three weeks?”

“No. I just wanted you to think that I was really working on it.”

John sighed. “Sherlock – “

“Just come home and try again? I’ll be slow this time. Or do nothing at all. But the flat is too quiet without you there. And I’m getting nothing done with the work and I need you there for that. If only so I don’t hit Anderson again.”

“Do you promise to let me be the one to lead this time?” John asked.

“I can’t promise that.”

John smiled. “That’s good.”

“How?”

“You’re being honest,” John said. “Honest is good. It’s always good and not just a bit.”

“Would it be honest to tell you that I’ve wanted you for a while? And it hurts when you pull away or go out with Sarah or just hide yourself from me.”

“I never meant to hurt you,” John said.

“But you did. And more than anybody else has.”

“I’m sorry,” John said quietly. “I didn’t know. I just – why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want pity. And I didn’t want you to come home because you felt guilty. I wanted you to come home because you want to come home, not because of anything I said or did.”

John sighed. “Let me talk to Clara about Harry. If they can do it on their own, I’ll come home tomorrow.”

Sherlock smiled at that. “Thank you.”

John nodded and thought for a moment. “Oh you,” he said and started to laugh.

“Me what?”

“You planned this!” John said, still laughing.

“I did not. Well, maybe hitting Anderson.”

“You wanker,” John said but grinned.

“He had it coming.”

“True, he probably did,” John said. “I shouldn’t be laughing at your ploy to get me back.”

“It wasn’t really a ploy,” Sherlock said. “I really wanted to hit him, so I did. I just also knew that we were close to your clinic, so Lestrade would bring him here. The two of you would talk, as you talked with Mycroft this morning, and things would be better. So, when I came in this afternoon, you would be more open with me and come back home.”

John shook his head. “Next time, just ask me.”

“Please don’t let there be a next time?” Sherlock looked at him with pleading eyes that John couldn’t help but pull him into a hug. It was awkward for a moment before Sherlock clung to John tightly. 

“I won’t,” John whispered. “As long as you don’t create one.”

“I’ll try,” Sherlock whispered back. “Can’t fully promise on that one.”

“Trying is good.” John looked up at Sherlock and was shocked when Sherlock leaned down and kissed him. It was a soft kiss that John could easily move away from, but he didn’t. It took a moment before he started to kiss Sherlock back. He broke it when they needed to breathe and just blinked at him.

“Not good?”

“No – that was – it was fantastic.” John didn’t move away from Sherlock at all. “Even though I’m still very confused by everything.”

“Tripping over labels.”

“Yeah, well, I’m allowed,” John said.

“Okay.” Sherlock lay his cheek on John’s head before taking a deep breath. “This won’t just keep you away longer?”

John sighed. “No. I told you that I was coming home, didn’t I?”

“Yes, but…” Sherlock trailed off as he thought of something.

“Sherlock?”

“Hrm?” Sherlock asked.

“If you’re going into your mind palace, mind letting go so I can sit?”

Sherlock just moved more onto the cot and pulled John with him. “Better?”

“Bit too fast.”

“You wanted to sit,” Sherlock said.

“On my own, not with you crowding my personal space.”

Sherlock reluctantly let go of him. “Alright.”

“I’ll be out in the office. Take your time.”

Sherlock nodded a yes, going into his thoughtful pose as he lay down on the cot.

John sighed and went into the office, where Greg was sitting and reading the paper. “Were you in on this?” 

Greg looked up from the paper. “Maybe.”

“I’m not sure if I should be angry at you, him, or the both of you.”

“You’re not really angry.” Greg went back to reading the paper. “If you were, you would have tossed him out already. Sarah says you’re done for the day when you’re done with Sherlock.”

“So my day is never ever done.” John sank down into his office chair and pulled over some paperwork. “Might as well get some work done while he thinks.”

“So you’re going back?”

“Yeah,” John said. “I’m insane.”

“You said it, not me.”

John threw his pen at Greg, who just started laughing. He couldn’t help but join in, feeling like a weight had been lifted off of him. Sure, nothing was really solved with Sherlock and everything might change tomorrow, but just the idea of going back to Baker Street felt good. Everything else could be dealt with tomorrow, including what would happen if his heats ever decided to show up, but that thought was pushed down as far as it would go. Right now, he would just be happy.


	10. Gas Explosion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first during the Great Game chapter. All dialogue from the episode itself belong to the writers.

Sherlock let out a deep sigh as he looked up at the ceiling. He found John’s gun, not in a drawer, but just out on the table next to John’s bed. He could tell that it was recently cleaned but that he was in a hurry to finish. So, a ritual, but it still scared him to just find it out and about. Usually John hid it – he found it in the skull one day – but for it just to be out… well, it worried him. It worried him more than it should because he hadn’t felt any suicidal or depressed thoughts from John. There were the nightmares, yes, but of course there would be nightmares. He raised his arm, pointing the gun at the wall and shooting. He got a couple of shots in as he heard John coming up the stairs, so he stopped.

“What the hell are you doing?!”

“Bored,” Sherlock replied.

“What?”

“Bored!” Sherlock got up from the chair, firing at the wall again. “Bored! Bored! Not much got in the criminal classes. Good job I’m not one of them.” He let John take the gun away from him, knowing it was empty.

“So you take it out on the wall?”

“Oh, the wall had it coming,” Sherlock said and flopped down on the sofa. He listened to John go into the kitchen and hid the smile off of his face. There was a test in the fridge as he heard John’s exclamation of disgust and closing the fridge door before opening it again.

“Is that a head?”

“Just tea for me,” Sherlock replied.

“No, there’s a head in the fridge.”

“Yes,” Sherlock replied in an “obviously” tone.

“A bloody head! I’m home a week and you have a head in the fridge!”

“Well, where else was I supposed to put it? And you haven’t been home a week. Yes, your things are back, but you’re either at work or helping out your sister. It’s not like you’re at home for anything other than sleep,” Sherlock countered.

“And a lot of sleep I’m getting when you decide to bang around at three in the morning!”

“I was finishing an experiment,” Sherlock said calmly. “Are you going to make tea or not?”

“Make your own bloody tea.”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow at that. “Usually tea helps to calm you down. Well, both of us.”

“What do you have to be mad about? You just shot the wall; you have some anger left?”

“I read the write up on the case,” Sherlock said.

“Oh.”

“A Study in Pink.” Sherlock sat up so he could look at John.

“Well – pink lady, pink case, pink phone – it just made sense.” John paused. “You don’t like it.”

“And you’re surprised by that.”

“I thought you would be flattered,” John started to explain.

“Why would I be that?” Sherlock interrupted. “’Sherlock see through everyone and everything in seconds. What’s incredible though is how spectacularly ignorant he is about some things’.”

“I didn’t mean it that way.”

“There’s no way for it to mean anything other than what you wrote,” Sherlock said. “Look, what you call ignorant is the fact that I delete things that are not important. My brain only has a finite amount of space, like a hard drive. You, like other people, like filling your brain with stuff that seems important but isn’t. That makes it hard to get at the stuff that matters, which is why I’m able to notice and deduce things and you think that I’m ignorant in other matters.”

“Like the solar system.”

“Oh! How? What does that matter? So we go around the sun. If we went around the moon or round and round the garden like a teddy bear, it wouldn’t make any difference! All that matters to me is the work. Without that, my brain rots. Put that in your blog. Or better still, stop inflicting your opinions on the world.” He flipped back down on the sofa, turning his back on John. He could feel the anger building up over the mental link but he wasn’t going to say anything. He did turn around when he heard John get up. “Where are you going?”

“Out!”

Sherlock sat up and looked confused as Mrs. Hudson came up the stairs, asking one of her stupid questions. He went over to the window, watching as John walked away from the apartment. “Look at that, Mrs. Hudson. Quiet, calm, peaceful. Isn’t it hateful?”

“Oh, I’m sure something will come up, Sherlock. A nice murder – that will cheer you up,” Mrs. Hudson said. “And he’ll come back. He did last time. He just needed some air.”

“Really cannot come soon enough,” Sherlock muttered. He stood at the window, as if doing so would will John back, when Mrs. Hudson yelled at him about shooting the wall. He turned away, smiling at his work, when an explosion sent him crashing to the floor. He decided to stay on the floor for the moment, until the dizziness and the ringing in his ears went away. 

_Sherlock?!_

Now that was something he wasn’t expecting to hear. “John?” he called.

John kneeled down in front of him, saying something that Sherlock couldn’t understand.

“Ringing,” Sherlock said.

_But he heard me – he never makes sense._

“I make perfect sense,” Sherlock said. 

John raised an eyebrow and helped Sherlock up. “Got to get out of the flat, just in case.”

Sherlock took the help, moving with John out of the flat and to the street. “Just a gas leak, nothing strange, and I think the ringing is finally going away.”

“Doesn’t explain how you heard me,” John said. He brought Sherlock over to a few stairs where he made Sherlock sit down. He looked him over carefully. “Anything feel broken or out of place?”

“No.” Sherlock looked up at John. “You haven’t discovered it yet?”

“Discovered what?”

Sherlock reached back and gently gave a tug to the mental link. He smiled as John’s face went into a bit of shock. “It’s been there for a while.”

“How long is a while?” John swallowed and turned his head as he heard his name shouted. He waved Lestrade over to where they were.

“Middle of the Chinese circus case.”

John paled. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“And have you pull away even more? But you felt something through it, didn’t you? It’s why you came back.”

John nodded. “Like a giant shock went through my body. Okay, so, this link, have you used it?”

“When you had a nightmare when you slept at the surgery. Other than that, I’ve just used it to keep an eye that you were safe. Comforting hug when you were talking with your sister after her accident too.”

“Shit,” John said.

“Good description,” Lestrade said. “No bomb. They’re thinking gas leak.”

“That’s obvious,” Sherlock said. “Can we go back to the flat yet?”

“No,” Lestrade said as he watched John move away to lean against a wall. “Is he alright?”

“Just told him about the mental link.”

Lestrade blinked. “What?”

“Mental link – had it for a while now.”

“Jesus,” Lestrade said. “Poor him.”

“I am not that horrible.”

“Have you met yourself?” Lestrade countered.

Sherlock didn’t answer, turning his head to keep his eyes on John, as if he thought that John was going to slip away again. He smiled as John came back and unconsciously took his hand. He smiled wider when John didn’t protest and gripped his hand a bit tighter. “You alright?”

“No. But I will be, given time.” John turned his attention to Lestrade. “Have you set a date?”

“We’re thinking June in Paris,” Lestrade said. “If nothing happens. Just a small ceremony – our guest list is basically you, Sherlock, and Anthea.”

“So just family,” Sherlock said. “Anthea is our cousin. She downplayed it when getting a job at first, but Mycroft realized who she is.”

“Is she your only cousin?” John asked.

“No. Just the only one that really counts,” Sherlock said.

Lestrade smiled. “Makes sense.” He turned as he heard his name called and went over to the officer.

“I meant to tell you,” Sherlock said.

“About Anthea or the mind link?”

“Both,” Sherlock said. “I really thought that it would push you away more.”

“I understand your logic even if I don’t agree with it,” John said. “Hopefully we can go back in soon. I need tea.”

Sherlock laughed. “You always need tea.”

“I blame you.” John looked at Sherlock. “I like your laugh.”

Sherlock smiled at that. “Thank you.” He moved and kissed John’s hand before standing up. “I want to ask something of you, but I’m not sure if I’m allowed.”

“We broke up,” John said. “Turns out that she’s scared about you going to a lawyer and suing her.”

Sherlock blinked. “She thinks I’m that terrible?”

“She can’t take the chance.” John looked to Lestrade motioning them over and walked to him, bringing Sherlock with him.

“You can go back in,” Lestrade said. “Just the gas and they’ve got it under control now.”

“Thank you,” Sherlock said. “Want to come in for some tea?”

Lestrade looked confused and looked to John. “Are we sure he’s alright?”

John chuckled. “He’s fine.”

“Why can’t I invite people in for tea?”

“You never invite people in for tea,” Lestrade answered.

“Again, now family as well,” Sherlock pointed out.

“Give people time to get up to speed,” John said. “And he probably wants to get home to Mycroft sometime before the sun comes up.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes at that. “Fine. Good evening Lestrade.” He looked at John as John went go of his hand. “John?”

“I’ll be a moment,” John said. “I swear I’m coming in.”

Sherlock nodded and went back into the flat. He looked out the window to Lestrade and John talking before he started water for the tea. He smiled at seeing the glass swept up – Mrs. Hudson’s doing – as he got out his violin. He plucked at the strings as he heard the door close and John come up the stairs. “Water’s done, I think.”

“I’ll get tea then,” John said and went into the kitchen to do so.

Sherlock willed himself to keep in his seat, even though he wanted to go into the kitchen and hug John from behind. And possibly not stop at the hugging. He took the cup of tea offered to him as John sat down across from him. “What did you two talk about?”

“Just making sure it was a gas leak,” John said. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“I’m glad you haven’t run away.”

John nodded. “I can’t keep on running away,” he said quietly. “At some point, I have to face that there’s nothing else to do. And you’re not the worst. Worst would be someone like Anderson.”

“I heard about what he did. Lestrade had to talk me down from going and breaking his jaw.”

John laughed.

“What?”

“I told him that next time it might be his jaw,” John said.

“You wouldn’t be wrong.”

John nodded. “Is there anything else?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you kept the mental link from me. Is there anything else that I should know? Something that I missed that you felt first or just anything you want to tell me?”

“No,” Sherlock said. “There’s nothing else.”

“Alright,” John said. “Okay. Are you going to be up for a while?”

“When am I not?” Sherlock asked.

“Good point,” John said. “I’m going to watch some telly.”

Sherlock didn’t answer, watching John get up and arrange his chair so he could see better. He went back to plucking at the violin, realizing that he was playing the melody he composed for John. He just plucked it to the end before getting up and going to work on an experiment, one eye on John all the while. It was like that until John went to bed and then Sherlock kept an eye on John’s dreams until he fell asleep for a few hours himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say thank you to everyone who is reading, commenting, leaving kudos - whatever you are doing, thank you. I am humbled when I look at the stats for this work and thank you for continuing to read. Due to this, on Sunday, there will be two chapters posted as my way of thanking you. So, again, thank you - don't think I can say it enough.


	11. The Pool

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think we all know where this is set due to the chapter title. :)

John was trying to write his blog post, but he couldn’t keep his concentration. He kept on looking over at Sherlock, who had his eyes glued to the telly as he never had before. It was a bit odd, but then again, even a genius needed a mental break. He went back to writing, getting out a few more words before stopping again. He looked from his laptop as he heard his flat mate yelling at it, something about how the man wasn’t really the boy’s father. He resisted the urge to shake his head and instead said “I knew it was dangerous.”

“Hmm?” Sherlock didn’t take his eyes away from the telly, but he did turn down the volume to hear John.

“Getting you into crap telly.” John saved the work that he wrote. He wouldn’t publish the case until Sherlock declared the case was over and whatever sort of writing block he was having was gone. He probably just needed to see Sarah and everything would be fine. Since they were still waiting on the last pip, he would wait to publish the case of the Great Game. That’s what he was calling it, because it seemed like a game to Sherlock and whoever was pulling the strings. He might change it later, but he liked it for right now. He did keep the issue of the memory stick out of the post, if only for the fact that Mycroft would shut down the blog and possibly blow up his laptop.

“Not a patch on Connie Prince.”

Speaking of the memory stick, as it was fresh in John’s mind. “Have you given Mycroft the memory stick yet?”

“Yep. He was over the moon. Threatened me with a knighthood.” Sherlock sighed. “Again.”

“You know, I’m still waiting,” John said.

“Hmm?”

“For you to admit that a little knowledge of the solar system would and you would have cleared up the fake painting a lot quicker,” John said.

“Didn’t do you any good, did it?”

John could have sworn he heard the other man trying not to gloat. “No, but I’m not the world’s only consulting detective.”

“True.”

And with that, John looked at the clock and got up. “I won’t be in for tea. I’m going to meet up with some friends. There’s still some of that risotto left in the fridge.”

“Mmm.”

John thought about the contents of the fridge for a moment and then, mostly to himself, said “Milk, we need milk.”

“I’ll get some.”

John looked at Sherlock, a bit in shock. “Really?”

“Really.”

 _Well, then this is good._ John decided to add one more thing to the list. “And some beans, then?”

“Mmm.”

John moved over to Sherlock and kissed the top of the consulting detective’s head. It was the first time since the gas explosion that either of them showed affection to the other. “Thank you.”

Sherlock looked up at that. “You can’t do all the shopping.” He reached up, pulling John down a bit for a kiss. They both kept it for a moment before John gently broke it to breathe. “You’ll be back later?”

“That’s the plan. And I won’t get too drunk – just meeting up with some RAMC buddies to talk.”

“Good,” Sherlock said as he let go.

John smiled at that and walked down the stairs, a mix of shock and happiness. If only because the last time that Sherlock did the shopping was… well, never. It was bizarre, but this was Sherlock he was thinking of. He called for a taxi, getting into the first one that pulled over to the curb. He gave the address for the bar, leaning back into the seat and closing his eyes for a brief second. That is all it did last as he heard a sound like one of the pips. “What – “ he looked at his phone, but there was nothing there. The screen in the taxi was off. When he looked up at the driver, there was a man who was holding a gun.

“Give me the phone, Doctor Watson.”

John thought over his options for the moment. The grip the man had on the gun was loose, so he could grab the gun if he wanted to. Then use it to make the cabbie stop and get out of the taxi to call Sherlock. “Okay,” he said. He moved to make it look like he was doing just that and grabbed the gun. As he did, he learned two things. One, the gun was being held in place by something screwed on the driver’s side. Two, there was a very thin needle there that went into John’s hand and made him yelp. He withdrew his hand, pressing against the injury to make the bleeding stop.

“Doctor Watson, I would do as the man says and give him your phone,” the cabbie said. 

The man’s voice was smooth and calm, a voice that John could have sworn he heard the voice before. He handed over his phone and looked at the two. “Who are you? Why are you doing this?”

“Our employer told us to collect you,” the man with the gun said. “So that is what we’re doing. You ask far too many questions.”

“New habit,” John said. He winced as he looked at his hand. “You wouldn’t happen to have a bandage or anything up there, would you?”

The cabbie, when they came to a stop at a red light, went into the glove box. It made the man with the gun move and John tried the door. To his dismay, the door was locked and there was no lock that John could open to easily get out.

“This is amusing,” the man with the gun said.

“Well, he did say to make sure that nothing was overlooked,” the cabbie said. He got the first aid kit and handed it back to John. 

“Thanks,” John said as he took it. He was careful to make sure there weren’t any more sharps and opened the first aid kit. He raised an eyebrow at seeing how well stocked the kit was, but took the antiseptic and used it. Instead of just using a bandage, he used the surgical glue that was in there and glued the wound back together. He flexed his hand after the glue dried and it was good as new. He handed back the kit and sighed. “Where are we going?”

There was a sound from the front as the man with the gun looked at his phone. “The pool,” he told the cabbie.

“What pool?” John asked.

“Again, too many questions,” the cabbie said.

John thought back to the case and back to the first clue that they were given. The shoes of the child who died from drowning at the pool. If it was the same man who was behind that first murder, then they would be going to that pool. The only problem that he didn’t have his phone to tell Sherlock where to go. He just leaned back into the seat and kept his mind on his surroundings. The only problem is that he could feel that he was nodding off. _Something in either the sharp or whatever I used._ He tried to fight it as best as he could but it didn’t last as he fell asleep, hearing Sherlock’s voice coming through the link but being unable to answer it.

*~*~*~*

When John woke up, the first thing he noticed was the smell of chlorine. The second smell that he noticed was that there was an alpha in the room. He opened his eyes, seeing a man dressed in a very smart suit with his back to him, talking to a few men with guns. Since they were talking, he tried to get up and found himself tied to the chair. There was also something heavy on his chest and he hoped that it wasn’t what he thought it was. As the man sent him out of the room and turned around, his eyes went wide. “You’re Molly’s Jim.”

“Well, more Jim from IT. But you do have a good memory, John. I wasn’t expecting that.” Jim crossed the room, bringing over a chair and sitting down in front of John. “Didn’t your mother tell you not to enter strange taxis?”

“It wasn’t strange on the outside.” John swallowed. “What do you have on me?”

“There were five pips. I’m surprised he let you out of the flat without knowing number five.”

 _Confirms the bomb vest. Fuck._ “Why are you doing this?”

 _John, where are you?_ Sherlock mentally asked.

_Where do you think? With the madman that started this in the first place. And I’m at the damned pool._

_… oh._

“Bored,” Jim said, pulling John’s attention back to him.

“I’ve heard that before but all he ever did was shoot a wall. Your ideas of relieving boredom is… well, psychotic is one way to put it,” John said.

Jim raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, I know how idiotic that sounds when I’m the one wearing the vest, but you don’t want to die. Or, if you do, you want to make sure that he sees me first because you want to make a point,” John said. “You’re not just Jim from IT. Who are you?”

“James Moriarty.”

John thought for a moment. “That’s the same name as the person the cabbie named in our first case.”

“You’re a good writer, John, as I like your blog. Too bad you went for living with a consulting detective instead of using your own imagination.” Moriarty got up, going over to a table and wheeling it back.

“Um, what are you doing?” John tried to keep the worry out of his voice but it didn’t work.

Moriarty gave John a look before going back to the table, getting the injection pen ready. “I thought you were supposed to be observant.”

“I’m still taking lessons. You’re going to inject me with… what exactly? And what’s your end game?”

Moriarty smiled at that. “If I told you everything, then nothing would be fun, Johnny boy.” He sighed as his phone rang. “What?” he snapped and listened to the other end of the line. “If you’re not ready, I’ll just find another buyer. And then I will find you and feed you your balls.” There was another pause. “Good.” He snapped off the phone and finished putting the medicine into the injection pen. “It is a shame that you’re older than the normal stock, but it didn’t hurt too much in the end.”

“What – what are you talking about?”

“Turn your head,” Moriarty said.

“No.”

Moriarty sighed before calling over one of the minions in the room. He waited as John struggled a bit before the head was moved and put the injection pen to John’s neck and released the medicine within. He stepped back. “Done. Get to your perch.”

John scrunched up his shoulder, wishing his hands were free to rub at the spot. He took a deep breath to steady himself and wished he hadn’t. Whatever he was given, he could smell even better now. He balled his hands into fists and tried to stay in mental control of his body. What his body wanted to do was spread his legs and beg for the alpha in front of him to take him. “Why?” he whispered.

“Got to make money somehow. I let Sherlock figure out the painting.”

John swallowed as he made himself focus on the words. He could feel more control over his reactions when Sherlock’s name was mentioned. The want, the ache, was still there, but his body didn’t want the alpha in front of him when another alpha was mentioned. “Why do it then?” 

“Bored. And then realized that I do need to make a point.” Moriarty dragged a finger down John’s cheek.

John dug his nails into the palm of his hand to focus on the pain instead of leaning into the touch. “Don’t touch me,” he hissed.

“Fine.” Moriarty got up, moving over to another part of the room.

John bit his lower lip so he wouldn’t whine at the touch being taken away. He closed his eyes, focusing on Sherlock, and feeling the rest of his body relax. _Can’t have him though. He said so._

 _Won’t matter_ a primal part of him answered.

 _Our alpha_ John thought with the primal part of him as he opened his eyes. He had picked a good time to do so, as he was being untied from the chair, and being helped to a standing position. “What now?”

“Showtime,” Moriarty said. “You know what to do.”

John was about to say something else when he heard Sherlock’s voice. He put his hands in the pockets of the coat, covering up the bomb as he went out the door into the pool area. He said the words that were fed to him, opening the coat when he was told, all the while blinking out S.O.S. in the hope that Sherlock would understand. Of course, Moriarty revealed himself, explaining to back off, and John saw his opportunity to try to save Sherlock. It went wrong, of course, and he had to back off. He was just grateful when it was done and his legs went to jelly after the bomb vest was dragged off of him. He looked up at Sherlock, his eyes not hiding the longing. “I’m glad nobody saw that.”

“Hmm?”

“You, ripping my clothes off in a darkened swimming pool. People might talk,” John said and licked his lips.

“People do little else.”

John started to chuckle at that, about to say something with calling Lestrade and the bomb team, when the red dots came back. He looked up at Sherlock with wide eyes, thinking about all the things he never really said or how he was stupid to waste time.

 _Don’t think that. We’re going to get out of this._

John watched Sherlock lower the gun to the bomb vest and steadied himself. _Pull the trigger and I’ll get us into the pool. Should shield us enough. If it doesn’t – Sherlock…_

_We don’t have time for sentiment, John. Get ready._

John tensed up, ready to charge himself at Sherlock and get them into the pool. Instead, Moriarty’s phone rang and the man motioned with his right hand. Someone burst through the side door, grabbing John and dragging John away as a shot went out and Sherlock fell to the ground. “Sherlock!” he screamed, trying to break out of the grip that held him as another injection was shot into his neck.

“Beanbag,” a familiar voice said in his ear. “He’s alive.”

“Sebastian,” John said. “Please – “ he tried to say more but his tongue started to feel like lead in his mouth as he fell unconscious.

“Should have accepted the job offer – poor sod,” Sebastian Moran said as he picked up the omega like he weighed nothing. He nodded to Moriarty, who was leaving the pool by a different route, going down to a car and taking the package to the high bidder.


	12. Aftermath

“Well, is he going to come back around anytime soon?” a familiar voice asked as Sherlock felt himself coming back from the darkness of unconsciousness.

“Depends on if you can talk any louder, Lestrade.” Sherlock slowly sat up, shaking his head as he looked around. “Where’s John?”

“That’s what we wanted to ask you,” Mycroft said. “And why is there a flash drive in the pool?”

“Thought that’s what Moriarty wanted in the end. It’s just a blank flash drive – the plans are safe back at the apartment.” Sherlock tried to stand up and took the help from Lestrade. “I assume that both of you saw the message on the website?”

“No, we’re here for the scenery,” Lestrade said. “Bomb squad took away the vest.” He handed the gun back to Sherlock, who pocketed it.

“So they shot me with the beanbag due to… what exactly?” Sherlock turned to go out the door of the pool but was stopped by Lestrade. “Where’s John?”

“He’s not here.”

Sherlock turned to Mycroft. “What?”

“He’s not here,” Mycroft said. “When we arrived, you were the only one here. People checked.”

“Why would they take him again? What’s the end game?” Sherlock was about to ask something when the pink phone chimed that he had a message. He pulled out the phone, hearing the pip, and looked at the picture. He walked around Lestrade, moving out of the pool area and towards the side room that was left wide open. He looked around at the setup – a chair with straps, a medical table, and a few other chairs – and knew that he was in the right place. 

Lestrade followed him and looked around the room. “I thought the pips were done.”

“There were five pips to begin with. I thought the last one had to deal with Andrew Scott, but I was mistaken. The last pip is John; either to get me to back off or to… well, his words were ‘burn the heart out of you’.”

“But they don’t have a bomb vest.”

“They could have another one. Or there’s something deadlier than a bomb vest in John’s veins.” Sherlock turned to the medical table, looking it over, before pulling out a pair of gloves to pick up the instruments. He undid the injection pen and sniffed. “Get Mycroft.”

“What is it?” Mycroft asked from behind Lestrade.

“Smell this.” Sherlock brought it over to Mycroft. He watched as Mycroft took a sniff and then made a horrible face. “Remind you of anything?”

“The chemical I was telling you that we were finding in the human smuggling cases,” Mycroft replied. “Mi5 found a smuggling ring – they were working with kidnapping omegas and selling them to alphas – and there was an experimental drug to break the bond. If I’m not mistaken, that’s the same drug. We’d have to test it.”

“But John’s not bonded.” Lestrade looked to Sherlock. “Unless you want to tell us something.”

“No, he’s not,” Sherlock said. “We’re as good as it, considering.”

“The mental link.”

“Exactly, Lestrade,” Sherlock said. He put the part of the pen he held into an evidence bag that Lestrade held out. “This means that Moriarty might have a chemist working for him or his hands are in a smuggling ring using the same thing.” As soon as the pen was out of his hand, he pulled out the pink phone again and made sure that he had a signal. “There’s no reception here.” He turned and left the other two to talk as he walked out to get a better signal. He tried the mental link, only getting quiet and fuzziness, before sitting down and hating having to wait.

*~*~*~*

John slowly opened his eyes as he felt the car stop. He couldn’t see out the window so he turned his head to focus on who was in the car with him. “Sebastian Moran.”

“Hello John.”

“You’re supposed to be dead.” John tried to sit up but that just made everything spin. He took a shuddering breath. “At least, that’s what I heard.”

“Shouldn’t believe everything you hear.” Sebastian handed John a glass of water. “Remember the last time we met?”

“Helped you with a dislocated shoulder. There was a small spider with an M tattoo on that shoulder and you offered me a job. Glad I didn’t take it.” John sipped at the water and sighed. “You’ve got a bigger one on your right hand now. What did you give me?”

“Half dose of the same thing Moriarty gave you before. New experimental drug designed to break the alpha-omega bond with bonding an omega to a new alpha.” Sebastian took the glass of water from John when John emptied it. “You should have taken the job offer.”

“I like the madman I have. He doesn’t strap bombs to people.”

Sebastian chuckled. “Yeah. He goes over the top sometimes but I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He pulled out a phone and a piece of paper. “Time for you to come in again.”

“And another vest?”

“No,” Sebastian said. “He gets four hours – mix of the drug and the schedule of the high bidder – to solve the riddle and find you. No address this time – boss has moved on to another job.”

“He doesn’t know you gave me another dose.”

Sebastian nodded. “Consider one of the life debts I owe you paid if it works.”

John laughs. “I think we’ve been even for a long time.”

“I don’t consider us even,” Sebastian said and dialed, putting the phone on speaker before handing the phone and paper to John. He also pulled out a gun and held it to John’s head. “Word for word.”

John licked his lips and waited for Sherlock to pick up. “Sherlock – “

“John?” Sherlock asked as the safety was taken off of the gun.

“Four hours,” John replied. “To find the chemist and then your puppy, sexy. First one is a walk, so no address after, but some clues.” He swallowed and the phone was taken away from him, hanging up as Sherlock tried to ask questions, and the gun moved from his head. 

“Out,” Sebastian said as the door of the car opened. 

John got out of the car, a strong hand gripping his wrist, and noticed that they were in a garage. He felt the gun to the small of his back and started walking when Sebastian ordered him to. When they got into the elevator, he noticed that a keycard was used before selecting the top floor. As the elevator rose, the back of it was all glass and one could see the London skyline. _Top floor, glass elevator._

_You sound fuzzy._

John kept the look of happiness of his face. _Still drugged. Might throw up any moment._

_Aim for the shoes, John._

_Oi, don’t make me laugh. They might do something if they know the link is working again._ John looked down at his own shoes and took a sigh as if he was steadying himself. _What’s the drug?_

_I’ll find you._

_Doesn’t answer the question._ The elevator came to a stop and John went where he was told. He scanned the room that he was lead into – a suite, really – and was made to sit down in one of the fancy chairs. _Sherlock…_

_I know, John._

_You didn’t even get to hear what I wanted to say._ “So, what, we wait?” John asked.

_Don’t want to hear it this way. Want to hear it from your lips._

“What, you’ve got somewhere you need to be?” Sebastian asked as he motioned for the other two with them to check the rooms.

“Maybe,” John said. _Sentimental, Sherlock._

_You’re being insulting again._

John couldn’t help but laugh at that. That earned him a hard hit to his bad shoulder. “Shit!”

“I let it go on long enough. Drop the link.”

_What was that?_

_He found out. Hurry up._ John let go of the mental link and dropped his head. “You didn’t have to go to that shoulder.” The door clicked open and John felt himself dragged to his feet. 

A tall man, probably a bit shorter than Sherlock’s full height, stepped through the door. He was a bit on the heavy side in a nice three piece suit that he would see someone that would make deals with Mycroft. “Is this him?”

“Yes sir,” Sebastian replied. “John Watson. He needed another dose, so it’ll be another five to six hours.”

The man raised an eyebrow but nodded. “Take him into the bedroom.”

John struggled, trying to get out of Sebastian’s grasp, but a growled command made him stop. He winced in pain as his hands were forced behind his back and handcuffed there. He sat down on the bed when he was pushed down and watched Sebastian leave the room. “What’s your name?”

The man moved over to John, forcing John’s chin up. “You’re not the one who asks questions.” The voice was smooth and educated, probably educated at Oxford, or it could all be a ruse. 

“Thought I at least got a common courtesy,” John said. He was forced to stand up as he was stripped from the bottom down. “Hey!”

That earned him a hard smack to the face as he got pushed down to the bed and flipped over. His shoes were removed to fully remove him of his pants and trousers before the man placed a hand on the center of John’s back to hold him down. “You’ll learn soon enough. Then again, I do like breaking mine in.”

John was about to retort as a finger was shoved into him. There was a slight burn at first before he heard a squish sound and a second finger was added. He bit down on his lip to stop himself from crying out as he kept himself from trying to thrust the fingers in deeper.

“You are a rare find. It is usually only the younger ones who are bonded but yet still virgins,” the man said. He removed his fingers and worked an anal plug in. He pulled John up on the bed, putting a pillow under the omega’s head. “Sleep,” he command growled.

John tried to fight the command, finding the mental link to cling to, and fell asleep with the comforting presence of Sherlock looking for him.

*~*~*~*

“How much longer can this take?” Sherlock asked for the third time since they got the lab at St Bart’s. 

“You’re the one who suggested this in the first place,” Molly reminded him and handed him a cup of coffee.

Sherlock sipped at it and made a face. “And where are Mycroft and Lestrade?”

“Outside talking,” Molly said. 

Sherlock picked up his cell phone and started to search on it. Since John was ordered to sleep, he was a bit calmer, but not by much. He pulled up the buildings that had a glass elevator in them and saw that there were three different hotels that fitted that description. At least there were two hours left instead of just one. He jumped up as he heard the search end and smirked. “Well well. Lestrade!”

“You could be a normal person and come get me,” Lestrade said as he stepped back in.

“Remember how you said you wished you could beat the shit out of my old dealer?”

“Yeah,” Lestrade said. “You’re joking.”

“I’m not. He uses the same chemical signature as when he’s making cocaine. Shall we?” Sherlock got up, grabbing his coat, and walking out of the lab before Lestrade could stop him. He did stop when Mycroft put a hand on his arm. “What?”

“I need to talk to you. And, from what I heard, you have to make an update.”

Sherlock looked at Mycroft and nodded to Lestrade. “Happy hunting.”

“Thanks,” Lestrade said as he left.

“What is it?” Sherlock snapped.

Mycroft handed over a file folder. “When we ran the CCTV, we caught sight of him taking John out to the car.”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow and opened the folder. “Colonel Sebastian Moran.” He looked through the pictures, stopping as he got to one of John and Moran talking. Moran didn’t have a shirt on, and was too close to John for Sherlock’s liking, but he saw the tattoo. “Even back then.” He snapped the folder closed and gave it back to Mycroft. “Why?”

“Deduce it.”

Sherlock narrowed his eyes at Mycroft. “You knew. Since the first time that you met John, you knew about this.”

“It is not my fault that you didn’t research him.”

“I used the tools that I thought were best!” Sherlock said.

“And Google does not have all the answers.”

Sherlock was about to say something else but closed his eyes instead. “I need to update.” He turned to go back into the lab, slamming the door and making Molly jump. He stalked over to a computer, pounding the keyboard as he updated. As soon as it was done, the phone rang. “Am I speaking to Moran?”

“I wondered how long it would take you on that, Mr. Holmes. Or should I thank your brother?”

“He doesn’t know that you’re doing this,” Sherlock said.

“No, he doesn’t. Not that it matters in the end.”

“Where’s John?” Sherlock asked. “Considering I’m supposed to be talking to him.”

“He’s got a demanding new master. Best to let him get his sleep when he can.”

Sherlock slammed his fist into the table that the computer rested on. “I gave you your answer. I’m supposed to get an address now.”

“And I let you have the mental link up for longer than I should have,” Moran said. “But thank you, for doing our dirty work,” and the phone was hung up.

Sherlock’s eyes widened as he stared down at the phone. He put it down calmly before turning his anger at the computer, crashing it into the floor. He was about to do the same to another computer when Anthea came in and restrained him. “Let go of me!”

“Calm down first,” Anthea said. “He said that you needed to think. How is this going to help Doctor Watson?”

He took a deep breath, his hands clenching into fists, before he made the connection. “The CCTV. Search it for any sign of John, Moran, or that car around these locations.” He gave them to Anthea and moved out of the lab to Mycroft, grabbing the file out of Mycroft’s hands. He looked through it, finding a slip of paper with a license plate on it. “Here’s the plate.”

“Looking now.”

Sherlock looked over her shoulder as she went back two hours. “Go back a bit further – they contacted us two hours ago but they needed to wait for John to be coherent.” He waited for her to go back another hour and looked at the three screens. “Freeze the top right.” He looked at the license plate and then at Anthea. “Which one?”

“The first address.”

Sherlock was up and out of the lab before anybody could stop him, making his way to the street. He hailed a taxi, giving the address of the hotel, and looking at his cell phone as he heard it ring.

_Anthea put a skeleton key in your left pocket. Good luck – MH_

Sherlock felt into his left pocket and pulled out a black keycard. He put it back and put his cell phone away, watching London go by. He paid when they pulled up to the hotel, nodding to the man who opened the door, and went inside. He scanned the lobby, not seeing anyone who might be in league with Moran there, and went for the elevator. He used the skeleton key and pressed the number for the top most floor, remembering what John said. 

He stepped out of the elevator and went towards where two men were standing outside the door. He pistol whipped one and ducked the attack from the other before doing the same. He used the skeleton key again, going in with the gun drawn, and aiming at Sebastian Moran. “Good evening.”

“At least your voice is calmer.” Moran got up and straightened his clothes. “John’s in the next room. And you can shoot me, but the good doctor isn’t going to like you for it.”

“How did you become friends with him?”

“The same way he becomes friends with everyone he touches – he shines a light into dark places.” Moran sighed. “Do be good to him. Your old drug dealer isn’t the only chemist we have. Just the one we wanted to get rid of.”

Sherlock nodded, lowering the gun and going into the next room. He paused for a moment before moving over to John’s side. “John,” he whispered.

“Sh’lock?” John asked sleepily. 

“I’m here,” Sherlock whispered. He pulled out a set of lock picks, quickly unlocking the cuffs and rubbing John’s arms. “I’m going to pull it out, okay? I’ll be gentle.”

John nodded and tensed a bit as Sherlock pulled out the anal plug. “Oh thank God.”

“He’s not here.”

John chuckled. “Thank Sherlock then.”

“That I can agree with.” Sherlock gently picked John up, moving them both under the covers as he curled up with his omega.

“Shouldn’t we be leaving?”

“No.” Sherlock took out his phone and texted to Mycroft that he found John. “When were you going to tell me that you’re friends with one of Moriarty’s men?”

“Right hand man, even.”

“John, don’t skirt around the question,” Sherlock said.

“Thought he was dead.”

“Good excuse as any,” Sherlock said and kissed John’s temple. “You’re wet.”

“Happens when you go into a heat,” John whispered. “Damn uncomfortable thing. Sherlock.. I want to knot. But that’s not what I kept on trying to tell you.“

Sherlock blinked in shock and was about to answer when he lifted his head as he heard the door to the suite open. He got up, moving quickly over to behind the door to the bedroom. He clicked off the safety as the man came into the room. “Knees with hands behind your back.”

The man did what Sherlock asked. “I was set up.”

“I doubt that.” Sherlock came around to look at the man after he was secure. “Arthur Bancroft, undersecretary to … something or other.”

“Really, Sherlock, would it kill you to learn some pop culture?” John asked.

“Yes,” Sherlock replied. He answered his phone as it rang. “Yes, it’s secure. High bidder is Arthur Bancroft – please come and collect him before I put a bullet in his head.” He clicked off the phone and aimed the gun right at the undersecretary’s head. 

“Sherlock.”

The consulting detective didn’t answer, keeping both of his eyes on Bancroft. He was like that until Anthea arrived with a team and he stepped back to let her take him. He looked down to see John’s hand take his and he smiled. “We’ll find your pants and go back to Baker Street?”

“So you want to?”

“Are you asking because you’re drugged or because you really want to?” Sherlock turned to look for the pants and easily found them, handing them over. “Considering all of your objections before, I’m finding it hard to believe that you’re just throwing them away.”

“Turns out that strapping on a bomb vest really does help the thinking process. Probably more than your patches.”

“John, are you asking because of being drugged?” Sherlock asked as he looked at his omega.

John stepped over to Sherlock, wrapping his arms around his alpha’s waist before reaching up to kiss him. Sherlock kissed him back as they kept the kiss for a good long while. “No,” he whispered. “I am scared for what it might mean, but – I want you. I only want you. So, please, for me?”

Sherlock nodded. “Always for you.” They untangled from each other as Sherlock took John’s hand to lead him out of the hotel room. They went back downstairs and Sherlock hailed a taxi to take them home.


	13. Knotting

Sherlock looked over the faces of Mycroft’s people that were still there at the hotel. He kept a tight grip to John’s hand before pulling his omega closer to him. He was tense due to all the alpha smells in the room and was relieved when Anthea came over to them instead of the other way around. He wasn’t sure he could go more into the room or not. “We need a car back to Baker Street. Thought it would be better to get one of the official cars instead of a taxi. Preferably a driver that we’ll never see again. Same goes for the agent if there needs to be one there.”

“The driver can be the agent,” Anthea says and calls over a person. “Jones, take Mr. Holmes and Doctor Watson back to Baker Street. No stops.”

“Yes ma’am,” Agent Jones said. He turned to the pair. “If you would follow me.” He led them to the elevator and they started the descent into the basement.

Sherlock pulled John into a hug as soon as the elevator doors closed. He took a deep breath before nuzzling at John’s neck, which made the omega melt against him. _Your pulse is racing. Relax, love._

_You first._ John took a deep breath and his arms moved back so he could grip at Sherlock’s coat. _I love cinnamon._

_Is that what I smell like? Yours has a bit of tea in it._ Sherlock softly kissed where he was formerly nuzzling, which caused John to shiver. As the elevator doors opened, he easily picked John up and moved with Jones to the car. He was glad that there were no protests about the carry and he set John down gently when the door was opened for them. He followed John into the car, pulling the omega into his lap as the door closed. He put up the privacy divider and relaxed as he didn’t see any cameras. “Good.”

“What is?”

“No cameras.” Sherlock kissed John’s cheek. “Unless you want them in order to put on a show.”

John blushed at that. “No.” He leaned back against Sherlock. “I really do want you. And it’s not the potion talking or the heat talking, this is me. I know it’s me because I’m not foggy. Then again, if I don’t get foggy during heats, I might like them more. But, I want you to know that I really do want you. There’s going to be fights, like we usually have, and I’ll probably get really pissed the first time you growl command me.”

“I’ll try not to then. Can’t promise I won’t, because I don’t want to break a promise to you. Or break anything else that is you.”

“I like that,” John said. “I’m still scared about getting pregnant.”

“I don’t think we will the first time around. If you want, we can research birth control until you are. I – I don’t want to force you into anything. I want you to be in this fully and want it completely.”

John chuckled. “Silly little ‘Lock.”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. “And why am I silly?”

“Because I am in it fully. I have been for a while now. I think you just need to realize it.”

“I will be happy as long as I’m able to give you everything you could ever want,” Sherlock said. “And I don’t mean just with money. You’re not becoming a kept man, John Watson. True, we’re going to mingle our finances and properties, but otherwise, you’ve got an equal stake in what comes in and out of our relationship. Including being able to pay half when you want to.”

“I have so little to bring.”

“Money isn’t everything and you know I don’t care about it.” Sherlock looked out and saw they were halfway to Baker Street with morning traffic starting to pick up. “And you have all of yourself to bring. I don’t consider that little at all.”

John smiled at that, about to say something, when Sherlock silenced him with a kiss. “Just because you don’t like the word or what it means isn’t that you aren’t.”

“It’s a weakness.” Sherlock looked confused as he saw sadness in John’s eyes. “What?”

“What was done to you that makes you think that?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Sherlock kissed John’s shoulder, moving the omega over to the other side of the seat. “And I can’t take this anymore.” His hands went down to John’s zip, undoing it and pulling John to the edge of the seat. “Up,” he commanded and pulled both down. John was making sounds of protest that turned into a moan as the tip of John’s cock was licked. “Or do you want to wait?” Sherlock asked with an impish grin. “There aren’t cameras – there might be at home.”

“N-No,” John replied as he licked his lips. He ran his hands through Sherlock’s hair before gripping and trying to bring his alpha closer to him.

“Good answer.” Sherlock licked the tip of John’s cock before taking his omega in his mouth. There was a quiet moan as Sherlock just swirled his tongue around it before starting to move. He was careful with his teeth and applied pressure, backing off when he felt that John was getting close too quickly. _Can’t have that._

“Sherlock, please,” John pleaded as his hips arched up. “I need – I need something in me.”

Sherlock hummed as a finger slowly circled before slowly pushing into John. He kept up what he was doing with his mouth as he pushed another finger in. He soon found John’s prostate, giving it a few quick strokes before his omega came with a soft scream. He drank it all, giving a cleaning swipe before withdrawing his mouth and fingers. He softly kissed John’s lips. “Just imagine how it’s going to feel when we finally get home.”

“Soon,” John whispered.

Sherlock looked out the window and saw that John was right, for once. He helped John get dressed, cleaning himself and John up a bit more before the car came to a stop at 221B. He nodded to the agent who opened the door and helped John get out. “Are you okay?”

“Will be soon enough, you keep telling me.”

Sherlock grinned at the answer, letting them into their home and making sure John was in with the door closed. He pushed John up against the wall, kissing him deeply and passionately while grinding against him. “I am going to have you many different ways before the three days are over.”

“…Three days?” John’s eyes widened with shock.

Sherlock chuckled. “Heats last three to five days. We’re not going to be up to doing much, if anything at all, so no cases. No clinic – which you are quitting and I will not take no for an answer – and no Mycroft or Lestrade. If only because you would kill one and I’d kill the other. We’re dangerous during the first heat. It gets easier as we go on.”

“Okay. Yeah, no killing Lestrade. He’s a good drinking buddy.”

“Exactly. But I think our calendars are going to be cleared from the first to the fifth each month, unless it’s a national emergency.” Sherlock licked his lips before moving and claiming John’s lips again. “And, if we don’t get upstairs soon, I will be taking you here.”

“Think of Mrs. Hudson and her heart.”

“Dying of happiness is never a bad thing.” Sherlock took tight hold of John’s hand, leading him upstairs. He sniffed at the air as he walked into the flat, his hackles raised before he relaxed at feeling John’s hand squeeze his. “Just Mrs. Hudson. She probably stocked us up.”

“Good – as I’m going to want tea eventually.”

“I might even make it for you.” Sherlock smiled at John’s look of disbelief before pulling him to his bedroom. Well, their bedroom, as it would be known for now. “It’s clean, if you’re worried about that.”

“No. Yes. I just – “

Sherlock tilted his head. “You’re confusing.”

“No, I just thought we’d be using my room and I’m not sure why.”

“Bed isn’t big enough. Plus, quick access to the shower.” Sherlock opened the door and pulled John into the room. True to his word, the bedroom was clean, probably cleaner than the rest of the flat. Everything was in place and there was nothing in piles or waiting to be put away. Even the bed was crisply made. 

“So we could have order instead of chaos.”

“No,” Sherlock said firmly. “And that’s not why we’re in here.” He closed the door behind John, moving his omega backwards as he undid the jacket before pulling it off. He went for the shirt next and that went as John sat down on the bed with his head down. He gently touched John’s scar, lightly tracing the lines of hurt and healing mixed together. He stopped, moving his fingers away as he saw his omega flinch. “I’m sorry.”

John blinked and looked up. “What?”

“I’m sorry if I hurt you with touching it. I didn’t realize it could be so sensitive.” Sherlock wasn’t sure what was happening, as the next moment, he felt himself pulled down into his omega’s lap and arms wrapped around him. “John?”

“You’ve never said sorry before,” John whispered as he rubbed his cheek against Sherlock’s chest. “I didn’t know if you could.”

“Of course I could and did. And I meant it. But we can’t stay like this, John. For one, I think I’m a bit too heavy for you.”

“You’re all skin and bone, Sherlock.” John let go, his eyes looking up at his alpha. “I want to see you,” he said as his hands moved up to Sherlock’s shirt. 

The alpha nodded a yes, letting John slowly undo the buttons and helping when John’s hands started to shake. He slid the shirt off, moving to sit back down in John’s lap so the omega could explore better, smiling as the hands slowly slid down to work on the trousers. “You’ve got a one track mind.”

“You would too in my position,” John said as he undid the fly.

Sherlock moved John’s hands away, pushing him down to the bed. He kissed the scar before trailing kisses to one of John’s nipples, nipping at it before licking at it. He smirked as John moaned and arched up into him before doing the same to the other nipple. He trailed kisses down to John’s stomach before stopping to strip John of his trousers and pants. He looked back at his omega on the bed, panting and pupils clearly dilated. He knelt down and licked John’s ass, pinning his omega in place with his hands. 

John squirmed at the new sensation for a moment before he started to grind in Sherlock’s face. He yelped as Sherlock pushed three fingers in, scissoring them in and out to stretch him. He arched his back as Sherlock touched his prostate, coming for the second time that night. “God,” he whispered.

Sherlock pulled out and kissed John fiercely. “Are you really sure that you can handle more?”

John tried to reach for him but Sherlock held him tightly in place. “Yes,” he answered. “Please.”

Sherlock answered by slowly pushing into John, controlling himself every inch of the way even though he just wanted to thrust in hard. He rested as he was fully inside of his omega, the knot resting just outside. “Alright?”

“Yes – you have to move.” John gripped at Sherlock’s arms, digging his nails in. 

Sherlock started to go slowly in and out, feeling the knot start to swell each time that he went into his omega. He let go of John’s arms, gripping at his hips and not caring about the bruises that were starting to form. He started to pound in and out of John. “Mine,” he growled.

“Yours,” John replied in a gasping moan as he moved his head to the side, baring his neck completely. “Always.”

That was all Sherlock needed to hear to thrust in deeply, knotting them to each other. As he did, he bit the middle of John’s neck and came inside of his omega. He came up for air and felt John going through another orgasm. 

“You’re going to kill me one of these days,” John whispered.

“But what a way to go.” Sherlock kissed where he bit, drawing a shiver from John. “Should have mentioned about biting.”

“If I didn’t want you to, I wouldn’t have offered.” John yawned and nuzzled against his alpha. “Sleep time for a bit?”

“I can’t sleep on top of you.” Sherlock moved a bit to lay behind John, causing John to gasp in pain, and he winced. “Sorry.”

“No – it’s alright.” John took a deep breath and relaxed when Sherlock wrapped his arms around him. He closed his eyes and was asleep in moments.

Sherlock smiled at that and let himself relax. He tried to go into his mind palace but just went to sleep instead. He woke up a few hours later, feeling that he could ease out of John, and did so without waking up his omega. He kissed John’s cheek before pulling up the cover more around John. He showered, putting on his robe and making a pot of tea before going over to the laptop. Lestrade had sent over a bit of paperwork and he spent his time filing that out, not noticing John was up until he heard the water running. He put the laptop to the side, getting up and pulling eggs, bacon, and toast out of the fridge to make breakfast.

“Did you get any sleep?” John asked as he came into the kitchen.

“Few hours.” Sherlock turned to look at John and just stared. John was wearing the hideous sweater that Sherlock kept in his room when John was gone and nothing else. “Where – um – where did you find that?”

“Under your bed. Why was it there?” John crossed his arms, looking amused.

“Needed it.” Sherlock turned back to the food he was making. “Tea or coffee?”

“Coffee works.” John went over to the coffee pot, trailing his fingers down Sherlock’s arm as he went by. “You’re making a lot.”

“I’m hungry for once. Although, that could just be you through the link and I’m not hungry at all. And it’s going to slow me down.” Sherlock sighed but flipped the bacon. “All your fault.”

“Hmm.” John kissed Sherlock’s shoulder. “Not the worst thing in the world, since we’re a bit new to it.”

Sherlock smiled at that and finished making breakfast as John grabbed the newspapers Mrs. Hudson left outside of their flat door. They ate breakfast in quiet, cleaning up afterwards before spending a very leisurely day in bed.


	14. The Start of the Scandal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, um, hi. :) Yes, there is a part two to this because, as it is, this chapter is 7,159 words long (according to Word) which includes the dialogue I took from the episode itself. But that is not why it's almost been two months since I've updated. It's taken me two months because this is not my favorite episode of the series and I've been having problems writing Irene. This is also not my favorite Irene - I prefer ACD's canon, Guy Richie's, and Elementary's more, sad to say. So, fair warning, after the Scandal parts, she might shift more to an ACD/Guy Richie type Irene. I believe I've gotten over my writing problem with BBC!Irene, which means that part 2 will be up by Sunday night or Monday at the very latest. 
> 
> As always, thank you thank you THANK YOU for all the kudos, comments, and bookmarks. I love you all. <3 If you have a comment from a past chapter that has a question that I didn't answer (or answer to your liking), please feel free to ask it again in this chapter. All dialogue does not belong to me but to the wonderful writers. Please enjoy.

John woke up slowly, feeling comfortable, warm, and sticky, with the last one due to the heat ending. He sighed contently and wasn’t surprised when Sherlock wasn’t there when he woke up. He was surprised with the cup of tea on the nightstand that was still warm. He sipped at it for a moment before putting it aside to stand up. He could feel that Sherlock was in the apartment but not what his mate was doing. He willed himself to get up and take a shower, looking over his bruises and bites. He noticed the bite on his neck was gone; reminding himself to ask Sherlock about that as he thought that was a bond mark. After the shower, he quickly dressed before venturing out into the living room. 

He looked around the living room, seeing that it was empty but he heard sounds coming from the kitchen. He leaned against the door frame as he watched Sherlock make his favorite breakfast. “Are you going to eat as well?”

“I did earlier,” Sherlock replied and pointed to the dirty dishes in the sink.

“Ah,” John said as he went and started to wash them up. “That’s good – you eating.”

“Eating is on the same level as breathing.”

“Well, thanks for doing both.” John finished cleaning up as Sherlock put the food on a plate. He kissed Sherlock’s cheek without thinking of it as he took the food and sat down. “At least we can say that we’re open for cases now.”

Sherlock didn’t say anything, moving to go into the living room and starting to play the violin.

“Or we’ll just go back to that.” John ate in silence, looking at the different papers that were close by. “Maybe I’ll just go on holiday.” That got a squeak of sound before the song continued. He shook his head and just ate, as his mind drifted back to the mark. “Sherlock?”

“What?”

“Why did the bonding mark go away?” John asked.

“Do we really need one, considering everything? Also, I didn’t place it right. It goes where your neck and shoulder meet.”

“Oh,” John said and went back to eating. When he was done and dishes in the sink, he pulled over his laptop and thought of places he could go, pulling up New Zealand first. He smiled, just making up plans as Sherlock said his name, firmly. “What?” he asked as he looked up.

“We need to talk about something.”

“So talk,” John said as he looked at Sherlock.

“I was but you weren’t listening,” Sherlock said and sat down. “We’re going to have to be careful about your heats.”

“Define careful.”

“If they get to be too short – barely lasting the three day mark – we need to correct it through hormonal therapy. Otherwise, I could descend into a rut and harm you and any other person that I deem to be a threat,” Sherlock said. “But you also shouldn’t be worried if we miss a month here and there. I hear it happens, even to omegas who aren’t fertile.”

John raised an eyebrow. “Sherlock, for someone who didn’t really care about all of this, you have a lot of information.”

“Gathered it when my brother and his mate were having difficulties – thought I deleted it.” Sherlock paused. “Also, you can’t go away for a month. Lestrade will probably shoot me, if Donovan doesn’t do it first.”

“We could go together.”

“No,” Sherlock said. “The Work comes first.”

“Right,” John said quietly as Sherlock got up and walked away. “I’m not quitting the surgery.”

That made Sherlock stop and turn around. “You said – “ 

“You need your Work, I need mine.” John held Sherlock’s gaze. “I’ll work around the cases, just like in the past. Sarah’s used to it by now.”

There was a soft growl before Sherlock narrowed his eyes. “Fine,” he snapped and turned around to go out of the kitchen. Instead of to the violin, it was to the bedroom, where the door slammed. John shook his head and went to clean the dishes, letting Sherlock have his mope and not expecting an apology anytime soon.

*~*~*~*

The months rolled by, with cases coming in and the two of them spending heats together. They didn’t do anything outside of heats, which John was a bit happy about, considering that he wasn’t comfortable with it. There were little touches that were common place, like a kiss on the cheek or holding hands while in a cab, but nothing else. It was nice and comfortable, but mostly, it was normal. At least it was until Sherlock refused to show up on a case due to wanting to spend the day in a sheet. John went to the crime scene, threatening to cut Sherlock off if he wasn’t nice to the DCI, and then the helicopter showed up for him. “What’s this about?” he asked as he got on and had put on the headphones.

“We weren’t told, sir, just to bring you,” the pilot replied as he started to fly. 

“Could you at least tell me by who?”

“Lord Holmes, sir,” the pilot said.

John raised an eyebrow and thought for a moment. He reached out for the mind link, a bit rusty from not really using it as much as his alpha would like him to. _Sherlock?_

_Sorry, Mycroft needs something. Hopefully it’ll be short._

_Well, that answers which Holmes it is._ John rubbed his eyes and wondered what Mycroft would want to bring him along. 

_You’re coming too?_

_Considering I’m in a bloody helicopter, yes. I’ll talk to you when I see you._ He gently dropped the mental link and tried to relax. He looked out the window to watch London go by and blinked as he saw that they were touching down at the palace. He followed the people that were waiting for him and shown into a room where Sherlock sat, still in his sheet.

John sat down, raised an eyebrow, and looked over at Sherlock. “You wearing any pants?”

“No.”

“Okay.” It took a look at each other before the two of them started laughing. “Oh. Seriously, I’m fighting an impulse to steal an ashtray. What are we doing here? Sherlock, seriously, what?” John asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Here to see the Queen?” John asked. It was at that exact moment that Mycroft decided to walk into the room.

“Apparently yes.” Which is all it took to start both of them laughing again.

“Just once, can you two behave like grownups?” Mycroft asked.

“We solve crimes, I blog about it, and he forgets his pants. So I wouldn’t hold out too much hope,” John replied. “That and I know how to be one. I have serious doubts he does.”

Mycroft cleared his throat and sighed, picking up Sherlock’s clothes. “We are in Buckingham Palace, the very heart of the British Nation. Sherlock Holmes, put your trousers on.”

“And my client is?” Sherlock asked. _As if I do what he says._

John couldn’t help it as a mix between a chuckle and a snort came from him. “Sorry,” he said as Mycroft gave him a glare. 

Another man walked in. “Illustrious in the extreme. And remaining, I have to inform you, entirely anonymous. Mycroft.”

“Harry. May I just apologize for the state of my little brother,” Mycroft said as both Sherlock and John stood up.

“Full time occupation, I imagine. And this must be John Watson, formerly of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers .”

“Hello, yes,” John said.

“My employer is a tremendous fan of your blog.”

“Your employer?” John asked.

“Particularly enjoyed the one about the aluminum crutch.”

“Hmm,” John said.

“And Mister Holmes, the younger. You look taller in your photographs.”

“I take the precaution of a good coat and a short mate. Mycroft, I don’t do anonymous clients,” Sherlock said and turned to leave. “I’m used to one mystery at the end of my cases. Two is much too work. Good morning.” He started to walk off and Mycroft stepped on the end of the sheet.

“This is a matter of national importance. Grow up,” Mycroft said.

“Get off my sheet!”

“Or what?” Mycroft challenged.

“I’ll just walk away.”

“I’ll let you,” Mycroft said.

“Boys, please, not here.” John could swear that Sherlock mentally sneered at hearing that. 

“Who is my client?”

“Take a look at where you’re standing and make a deduction. You’re to be employed by the highest in the land. Now for god’s sake – put your clothes on,” Mycroft said. He got off the sheet and made an apology to Harry.

“Come on,” John said as he picked up the clothes and was directed to a bathroom. “The both of you are insane.”

“Him more than me,” Sherlock said as he took the clothes in and gave John the sheet. 

John sighed and folded it up, wondering what the hell to do with it until it was taken from his hands. “Wait – “ he sighed as the servant didn’t wait and just leaned against the wall. With his luck, the sheet was off of his bed instead of Sherlock’s. He’d just started sleeping up there again since his last monthly heat and now it was going to be a bit colder. “Which bed did the sheet come from?”

“Yours. Mine doesn’t smell as good.” Sherlock moved and kissed John on the lips before moving to go back to the meeting. John blinked in shock, staying there for a moment before he went back to the meeting as well. He was quiet, taking everything in and letting Mycroft and Sherlock do most of the walking. He did look at the woman that they needed to get the phone to and thought she was attractive. If anyone asked, he wasn’t going to admit that his heart sank when he heard that she was an omega. He could hope that she wasn’t going to be like Moriarty and take away more space in Sherlock’s head from John.

*~*~*~*

John went back into the kitchen after the bowl of water was taken from him. He knew what Sherlock wanted him to do – get the smoke alarm to go off – but it didn’t mean that he liked it. For one, he could tell that Sherlock was interested in her and two, he didn’t like the way that she seemed to dismiss him. It made Sherlock dismiss him as well, but it was for the good of the case or some bullshit.

_Not bullshit. You’re thinking too loud and too pedestrian._

_Piss off then_ John answered. He focused his attention on the alarm, which he was able to get to go off easily.

“You can turn it off now, John!” Sherlock yelled.

“Trying,” John said. He turned as a shot was fired to turn it off. Something in him shut down as he was marched into the other room with a gun at his head and forced to get to his knees. And, of course, they wanted something from Sherlock and he claimed not to have it. He slowed his breathing at hearing that he would shot at the count of three and there was nothing from Sherlock. 

“No, wait, stop!” Sherlock called out.

 _Bastard._ John thought.

 _Just needed a clue – should have figured it out before but you distracted me._ Sherlock turned and opened the safe. “Vatican cameos.”

Which is when the gun fired from inside the safe hit the person that was holding the gun on John. He paused for a moment before grabbing the gun while Sherlock and Irene taking care of the other two men. Sherlock went outside to fire a couple more shots with John following before he stopped and looked John over. “What – “

“Good, he didn’t hurt you,” Sherlock said and kissed his forehead. “Come on, John!”

John looked confused, looking out to the street and then moving back inside the house with Sherlock. Today had been confusing, with Sherlock seeming to run a bit hot and cold, but he wasn’t going to question it until they were done. He stayed with the unconscious woman of Irene’s before moving upstairs when he felt something wrong with Sherlock. “Sherlock? Can you hear me?” He looked up as Irene spoke, but it didn’t really register as he looked back down at his alpha. He took a breath as police came, complete with Lestrade and Donovan. He was made to wait outside at the ambulance while they looked over Sherlock and said that he could just go home. 

“John?” Lestrade said, touching his shoulder.

“Could you help me with getting him home?” John asked. “And I told Donovan everything. Or what I think I’m allowed to say. Mycroft will probably want to know more.”

“Of course,” Lestrade said as the paramedics helped with getting Sherlock into the back of Lestrade’s car. They drove to Baker’s Street in silence and were able to get Sherlock upstairs to his bed. 

John sat heavily down on the couch. “This has been a strange day.”

“Whiskey where it usually is?” Lestrade asked. He saw John nod a yes and got a glass for both of them. He handed one to John and then sat down on the opposite end of the couch. “You just need a strong drink.”

John downed the whiskey in one gulp and leaned back on the couch. “Yeah, that did help.” He was about to say something else when he heard something. “Hold on.” He went to Sherlock’s room, seeing the detective on the floor and calling his name. He helped Sherlock back into bed and said “I’ll be right next door if you need me.”

“Why would I need you?”

“No reason at all,” John said and closed the door. He leaned against it and closed his eyes tightly. He was not about to cry over anybody treating him like shit, especially not someone who knew how to push all his buttons. He was just going to take it and figure out what to do next. _One foot in front of another._ He turned and went back out to where Lestrade was getting up. 

“Work calls. You going to be okay with him?”

“Yeah,” John said smoothly. “See you when you need us?”

“Hopefully no time soon,” Lestrade said and left.

John nodded and sat back down on the couch. He poured himself another glass and sipped at it this time. It didn’t take long for that glass to be done, even with sipping and he was about to pour himself another when he stopped. “This is stupid,” he said to nobody in particular, putting the bottle away and going to bed. The next morning, he could hear Sherlock moving around like normal and he debating going down. That problem was solved when there was a knock on the door. “It’s open.”

Sherlock opened the door, putting down a cup of tea and toast with jam on it. “Peace offering.”

John raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yes,” Sherlock said. “Plus, Mycroft is coming by and I’d really like it if you are down there buffering.”

John smiled and took Sherlock’s hand before pulling him down for a kiss. “So – yesterday – “

“High stress situations and thinking you could have been dead again,” Sherlock said. “Should lock you up here.”

“But then how am I going to help with Mycroft?”

“The one obvious reason why I don’t,” Sherlock said with a grin. He kissed John again before going back downstairs. John smiled and shook his head, thinking that he was never going to get used to Sherlock’s mood swings.

*~*~*~

John looked over to where Sherlock’s phone was when it gave off the annoying alert again. An alert that Irene Adler wanted his attention and that Sherlock was interested considering that his eyes flickered over to the phone. He wouldn’t do anything to read it, at least not while John was in the room it seemed, but that didn’t help. If anything, it just meant that Sherlock wanted Irene and that he was in the middle. As the alert sounded again, John got up from his chair, his mug of tea forgotten and threw the phone as hard as he could at the wall.

“John!” Sherlock raised an eyebrow at the omega. “Was that really necessary?”

“It wouldn’t be if you would turn the bloody ringer down or off entirely.” John moved back to his chair, sipping at the cup of tea and would let Sherlock get his own bloody mobile. It didn’t seem to be broken and he wasn’t sorry at what he did. If anything, he was proud of himself for not just taking things lying down. Although, it didn’t seem to matter as Sherlock slipped back into what he wanted and damn everything else.

“You could have broken it.” Sherlock got up and retrieved the phone. “As it is, you only dislodged the battery. Good job.”

“Sod off,” John replied. Ever since what happened with Irene, it seemed that John really didn’t exist as a partner save during heats. He shouldn’t be surprised that Sherlock got bored with him – he got bored with everything – but it still hurt. So he started dating again, with even more disastrous outcomes than before. Before, Sherlock at least pretended to be nice, but now he wanted to just chase everyone off. He did return to living in his own bedroom, save during heats, and it felt good to have the extra layer of separation. Then John could pretend that he wasn’t really hurt by Sherlock and that, save for three days, that they were just friends. What he didn’t want to admit is that going back to just being friends with his alpha was killing him.

Sherlock didn’t give an answer to the ‘sod off’, not that he was expecting one, and it was just getting to be too much. He stood up, grabbing his wallet, mobile, and keys, before putting on his shoes and coat. If his alpha noticed anything, there wasn’t anything said. John thought that he was going to be stopped – he tried to go out once before and Sherlock stopped him, citing Moriarty – but this time, there was nothing. He got down to the street and took in the cold night air with a deep breath. A small smile crossed his lips as he realized that this was exactly what he needed. He turned to the right, willing himself not to look up at the windows of the flat to see if Sherlock was watching him, and walked the way to his usual pub. 

It was on the busy side, due to it being Saturday night, but he was able to grab a table. He ordered a pint and the fish and chips, settling into the chair as he watched the rest of the room. He felt his mobile buzz and fished it out of his pocket. He sighed as he saw it was a text from Sherlock. He nearly closed the phone without looking at the message but curiosity got the better of him.

_Where are you? – SH_

_Pub. JW_ He decided to let Sherlock deduce where he was. He’d also let Sherlock decide if he was going to come after him or not. “Thanks,” he said as the pint was placed down in front of him. He raised an eyebrow as a second pint was put down. “I didn’t order two.”

“No, I ordered one,” Greg said as he sat down. “I’ll also get whatever he ordered for food. As long as it isn’t haggis.”

“Fish and chips,” John said. 

_Mycroft’s here. Come back so he’ll go away. – SH_

_No. JW_ He turned off the phone display, silencing the phone, and slipped it back into his pocket. “What, did you two flip coins or something?”

“He needed to talk to Sherlock about Moriarty or something.” Greg shrugged and sipped at the pint. “You left just as we pulled up. I followed – thought about calling out to you but you seem to need the quiet – so I just waited until you got here.”

John smiled. “Thanks.” He took a long sip of his pint as Greg did the same. “I threw his phone at the wall. Didn’t break it but I also didn’t apologize. He didn’t seem to care, like he’s not really caring about anything anymore, and… well, I’m glad you’re here instead of Mycroft. I might have punched him and then you would have gotten mad at me.” He sighed. “I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

“Yep.” Greg smiled at John’s chuckle. “You’re allowed though. Nobody said it was going to be easy. At least I can pull rank on Mycroft when I want to. You… well, you picked him.”

“More and more I’m feeling that we were forced upon the same path.”

Greg was quiet and looked down into his pint curiously.

“Oh fuck,” John said. “Is nothing in my life my own anymore?”

“More ‘oh Mycroft’,” Greg said. “He’s been worried about Sherlock for a while. Never thought he would until I came across a file recently. He wasn’t behind you getting shot, but he was keeping an eye on you since you came back to London. Plus, he knows Mike Stamford – introduced both me and Sherlock to him – so… yeah.”

“Then he is extremely lucky he isn’t here. And if he hadn’t already said no to coming on Christmas, I would disinvite him.”

Greg chuckled. “Let the anger simmer for a while, alright? He – he meant well. Honest.”

“Hard to believe that at the moment. Should have just let Irene Adler come onto the scene earlier.”

“I don’t think he knew about her until now,” Greg countered. “And even still, I don’t think he wants her anywhere near Sherlock. Hopefully he’s giving him the give her up speech or… well, maybe you should. If nothing else is working.”

“Storming out of the flat is working. I bet ignoring my mobile is probably working too, even if he was able to deduce that you’re with me.” John was about to say something else when his head turned to see who was coming in the door. He leaned on his hand and turned his collar up a bit, hissing at Greg as he turned to see who it is. “Don’t.”

“Are we hiding from Sherlock or someone else?”

“Moran,” John replied quietly. He kept an eye on the man and only relaxed after Moran left about five minutes later. “Thanks,” he said as their food appeared and he dug into it. He was done just a few minutes later while Greg was just starting. “Sorry.”

“Haven’t eaten all day or something?” Greg grinned. “I remember what it’s like not to eat. Just never thought I’d see someone else do it.”

“That and I haven’t felt well enough to eat until now.” John shrugged and took another sip of the pint. “Remind me that I can’t have more than this one when I’m going to order another.”

“Work tomorrow?”

“Yep. Even with him trying to make me give it up. It’s cold and flu season and I could use the money.” John tapped his plate before stealing one of Greg’s chips. “Sorry.”

Greg split the chips in half, spilling them over onto John’s plate. “Never say that I don’t give you anything.” He smiled as John started eating again and answered his mobile. “Lestrade? Ah – hello Mycroft.”

John grinned as he watched Greg’s face soften from hearing who was on the other end of the line. He wondered if he would ever have that with Sherlock and was pulled from his train of thought when Greg touched his shoulder. “Sorry.”

“The git wants to speak with you.”

John chuckled and took the mobile. “Hello?”

“You’re never supposed to turn off your phone.”

“I didn’t. I put it on silent,” John said. “And you were being an ass, so turnabout is fair play. That said, I’m going to grab a hotel for the night if you’re going to just be in a strop when I get home. I don’t want to deal with it tonight. So, you get a night free of me. Have Mycroft go up to my room and get clothes – there’s nothing he’s not seen before up there – along with my bag and charger. I will be home after work tomorrow and, if you’re willing to actually talk, I’ll listen. If not, then… then I’m not sure, Sherlock. I know there’s another willing omega to take you.”

“I don’t want her. I want you.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t believe you at the moment. Give me a night to think about it, okay?” John sighed softly as there was silence on the other end of the line. “I can be mad and love you at the same time. The second part hasn’t changed. It’s just – you have to do something, Sherlock. I’m starting to go mad from the damned sound.”

“Some of the texts are about you.”

John blinked, not sure about what he just heard, considering that the only other person to really want him was Sherlock. “Probably a ploy. She’s an omega, remember? Omegas don’t usually want other omegas.”

“I don’t think it is. And I think she’s going to look for you if she realizes you don’t come home.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that.” John decided not to tell Sherlock about Moran, considering that it would just make Sherlock worry and command him to come home. He wanted the one night. “Listen, I’ll see you after work tomorrow and then there’s Christmas. Maybe I can talk Harry and Clara into coming down here instead of us going up there for a change. And I won’t be going back until a week after New Year’s.”

“Okay.”

“I do mean it – I love you,” John said.

“I know.” 

John sighed as the phone went silent. “Well, that went well. Know any good places to stay for a night?”

“Yep – there’s a bed with your name on it at my old place,” Greg said and took back the phone. “And I’m not taking no for an answer.” He texted Mycroft about the change.

“Thanks,” John said and ate the rest of the chips on his plate. When they were done, he went with Greg out of the pub and into one of Mycroft’s cars. He slept a bit on the ride, waking up when they got to Greg’s old place and taking stock of where everything was. He decided that he just needed sleep, curling up on the spare bed and falling asleep as he heard Greg and Mycroft talking.

*~*~*~*

Going back home after his work was easy. Sherlock decided to ignore him instead of doing anything else and that was fine by John. He was able to work around Sherlock’s experiments to make dinner, along with hiding the present for Sherlock in the skull. Harry and Clara weren’t able to come down – Harry started drinking again, of course, as completely stopping would be a Christmas miracle – so he made plans to go up to visit them. All in all, it was turning out to be a good holiday, even if his mate was a giant Grinch at times.

But he had Mrs. Hudson and they both decorated 221B to make it cheerful. Christmas was quickly there and Lestrade showed up, sans Mycroft. Lestrade just shrugged and took a drink from Mrs. Hudson. Sherlock was at John’s laptop, not looking up as he said hello to Lestrade. Some beta came in and that did make Sherlock look up as the beta went over to John to talk to him. A moment later, John felt himself being dragged into the bedroom. 

“Sherlock!” John said.

“Don’t. Who the hell is that?” Sherlock asked.

“That is Jeannette, who didn’t have any place to go for Christmas. You said that it was alright – I asked you the night I got back – and I thought you were telling the truth,” John said.

“It was the night you came back. I would have committed murder for you that night,” Sherlock countered.

“Well, thank everything I don’t want anybody dead,” John muttered. “Just be nice. Not your normal self. She’s a friend and nothing more.”

“She leaned into you when getting the drink and you looked down instead of up,” Sherlock said and left the room, slamming the door behind him.

John sighed and sat down on the bed. He rubbed his eyes, wondering about his present to Sherlock, still hidden in the skull, if it would be well received. He had doubts about it before now and all those doubts were coming back up. He stood up, taking a deep breath, and squared his shoulders. He went back out and made nice with the guests, letting Sherlock sulk on the couch and then back on his laptop, but made sure his alpha had a drink. There was something about his counter – “Oh no, Christmas is cancelled” was his reply about it as he didn’t care – and he went back to chatting, sitting down by Jeannette. He smiled as Molly came up the stairs, looking nicely dressed for the occasion.

As soon as Sherlock opened his mouth, John’s heart dropped at seeing the look on Sherlock’s face. “Sherlock – “

“Oh come on. Surely you've all seen the present at the top of the bag. Perfectly wrapped with a bow. All the others are slapdash at best. Must be someone special then. Shade of red echoes the lipstick. Either a subconscious association or one that she's deliberately trying to encourage. Either way, Miss Hooper has love on her mind. The fact that she's serious about him is clear from the fact that she's giving him a gift at all. That all suggests long-term hopes, however forlorn. And that she's seeing him tonight is evident from the make-up and what she's wearing. Obviously trying to compensate for the size of her mouth and breasts,” Sherlock said and stopped as he noticed something.

“You always say such horrible things,” Molly said quietly. “Every time. Always. Always.”

Sherlock looked to John, who mouthed ‘apologize’, and turned back to Molly. “I am sorry,” he said. “Forgive me. Merry Christmas, Molly Hooper.”

And after being sweet and kissing Molly’s cheek, the damned cell phone went off. John looked away, his fist clenching before getting up and just going into the kitchen. He just leaned against the kitchen counter, looking down at the floor, not sure how long he just stared there until Lestrade came in. “What?” he asked.

“My’s asking for you,” Lestrade said. “Something about a danger night.”

“Tell him I don’t care,” John said.

“My? Call you back,” Lestrade said and hung up. “The text messages are going to stop.”

“Believe that when I hear it, thanks,” John said sharply.

“Irene Adler’s dead,” Lestrade said.

That made John’s head come up to look at Lestrade. He felt through the link and took a deep breath. “He just wanted a cigarette. He’s not going to use. Call off Mycroft, will you?”

“Yeah,” Lestrade said. “We’re breaking up, considering the Christmas miracle that happened. Hope you don’t mind –we thought that you might need some time. The person who came – Jeannette, I think – she left already. Said she hoped that you would be alright and thanks for the bit of fun.”

John just nodded. “Thanks.”

“Call if you need us,” Lestrade said. “Unless – “

“Go be with Mycroft,” John said. He waited until he heard both Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson leave, he started with cleaning up. He heard the door to the flat open and smelled Sherlock. It wasn’t the cigarette smoke but the other smell. He went out to the main room. “Sherlock?”

The alpha moved over to his omega and kissed him lovingly and deeply. He wrapped his arms around John’s waist tightly before burying his face in John’s shoulder. “Don’t ever leave me,” he whispered.

“Oh Sherlock,” John said quietly and hugged his alpha back. “I’m not going anywhere, you hear me? I’m not.”

“You could. Something could happen on the way to your work, at your work, coming home, shopping at Tesco’s… don’t leave me,” Sherlock whispered.

John sighed. “Sherlock, I’m going to try my best, but you can’t wrap me in bubble wrap. Or make it that I never leave the flat, okay? But I’ll be as safe as I can be. And know that I’m never leaving willingly. Not unless you go first.”

Sherlock nodded. “I hate suicide.”

“I know,” John said. “So don’t you go anywhere either.”

Sherlock nodded and unwrapped himself from John. He went over to his violin, starting to play melancholy music. John just sat down and listened, leaving the dishes for the next day. They slipped back into just sitting around the flat, with Sherlock playing the violin seeming non-stop. 

John just made the tea and meals, which Sherlock picked at and ate even less than before, but he did it just the same. So, when he left the flat to get some more food for the heat that was about to happen, he smiled at seeing the lovely woman he was sure he met somewhere. “Hello.”

The woman looked up briefly from her cell phone. “Oh, hello,” and then the familiar black car. He started to rant until he fell off to just watch where they were going. He got out of the car and followed to the room, going inside when Mycroft’s minion opened the door and not listening to her conversation. 

“He’s writing sad music,” John said and listened to his voice sound louder in the room. “Doesn’t eat. Barely talks. Only to correct the television. I'd say he was heartbroken, but, ah, he's Sherlock. He does all that anyway – “ he stopped as he saw Irene.

“Hello John,” Irene said. 

“Tell him you’re alive.”

“He’d come after me,” Irene said.

“I’ll come after you if you don’t.”

“Oh, I believe you,” Irene said. “Look, I made a mistake. I sent something to Sherlock for safe-keeping and now I need it back. So I need your help.” She sniffed. “And you’re about to go into heat.”

“Time of the month is how I like to say it,” John said. “And no.”

“It’s for his own safety.”

“So’s this. Tell him you’re alive,” John said.

“I can’t.”

“Fine, I’ll tell him,” John said. “I really don’t care if he’s going to leave me for you, I’m still going to tell him.’

Irene raised an eyebrow and laughed. “Oh John. We’re both at the mercy at our madmen alphas. And besides, what would I say?”

“What do you normally say? You text him a lot,” John said as his fist automatically clenched. 

“Just the usual stuff.”

“There is no usual in this case,” John said. “Considering you.”

Irene smiled at that. “Is that a compliment?”

“The highest one you’re going to get from me. You flirted with Sherlock Holmes?”

“At him, he never replies. You don’t flirt with him?” Irene looked at him with a bit of pity.

“No. And Sherlock always replies. To everything. He’s Mr. Punchline. He will outlive God trying to have the last word. If he gets past the gates in the first place for not believing.”

“Does that make me special?” Irene asked. 

“I don’t know, maybe.”

“You jealous?” Irene asked.

John sighed, as she knew the answer to that question. “We don’t seem to be a couple. Just a pair.”

Irene smiled. “Yes you are.” She texted and flipped her phone around. “There. ‘I’m not dead. Let’s have dinner and bring John’.”

“Bring – “ John tried to wrap his mind around that as he thought he heard Sherlock’s phone.

“Was that – “ Irene started to ask as John turned and went to look.

“Probably,” John said. “I should go.” He turned and Irene was right there. He tried to say something but Irene reached down and kissed him deeply. He opened his mouth, trying to keep up and only moved away when he needed to breathe. He gasped as he was pushed against the wall and his legs opened at feeling her hand reached down to trace the outline of his hardening cock. “Irene – “

“You do have a point,” Irene said. “Next time?” She kissed his shoulder with the wound before kissing his cheek. “We’ll put on a show for at least one sociopath.”

“I – just – yeah,” John said. “I need to – I should go.”

“Jenny will take you back,” Irene said as she moved for John to go. What John didn’t notice, as he quickly left the room, was the genuine smile on Irene’s face. The only thing that John could think about on the way home was the way that she kissed him and how he felt wanted. For the first time in a while, someone wanted him and it wasn’t because there was an act that had to be done. He nodded to Jenny as he got out of the car, raising an eyebrow as he saw a note on the knocker. 

_Crime in progress. Please disturb._

He read it and quickly went in, going up the stairs as quick as he could. Mrs. Hudson was on the couch, crying and looking hurt. “What the hell is happening?” he asked as he saw one of the men from Irene’s home tied in a chair.

“Mrs. Hudson’s been attacked by an American. I’m restoring balance to the universe.”

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” John asked.

“I expect so, now go,” Sherlock ordered. 

John sighed and took Mrs. Hudson downstairs to look at the cuts. They both turned when they heard the American crashing down on Mrs. Hudson’s bins. He took her away from the window, waiting for Lestrade to leave after showing off and being a small bit confused by Mrs. Hudson and Sherlock. He just followed his alpha back upstairs and was about to put on tea when Sherlock pinned him against the door. “The hell?”

Sherlock leaned in and took a deep breath. “Is she a good kisser?”

John blinked. “How… yes,” he answered.

“You liked it a lot and said so over the link, even spreading your legs for her probably. You stink of her perfume as well. I just chose to ignore it at the moment.” Sherlock let go and went over to his violin. He took note of the time and turned to John. “Happy New Year, John,” he said and played the customary tune. He turned away, doing something, before he seemed to just drop the phone on the desk. He moved and pulled John from his chair by the jumper.

“Hey!” John said. “Sherlock – you just have to ask.”

“Why did you hide my present in the skull?” Sherlock asked, holding up a small wrapped package.

“Only hiding place in the house you wouldn’t think of,” John said. “Open it. Better late than never.”

Sherlock let go of John, opening it quickly. He raised an eyebrow at the small black box and opened it to see John’s dog tags. “Why?”

“Because you do better with me attached to you. Now, that’s a reminder.” John smiled and kissed Sherlock’s cheek. “Happy Christmas.”

Sherlock just stared at them for a long time before putting the small box very carefully down on the mantle. He moved into the kitchen, getting something out of a rarely used drawer due to experiments. He came back and handed the black velvet ring box with a small red bow attached. “Before you do – I - do you – I want you to stay, even if the answer is no.”

John opened the box, seeing a silver band that would fit his ring finger with a solitary diamond on it with two emeralds on each side. “Sherlock,” he said quietly. “You want – I thought you said that it was all a farce.”

“It is,” Sherlock said. “And you’re the only one I would willingly go through it for.”

John smiled and pulled the ring out, raising an eyebrow as he saw that it was attached to a silver chain. “Huh. Good thought.” He undid the chain, taking off the ring and putting it on his finger. He kissed his alpha’s cheek and sighed. “But, for now, bed? Hopefully my heat will start tomorrow and we can spend the time in bed.”

Sherlock’s reply to that was pulling John close to him and crashing their lips together. He moved them back to the wall, pinning John with one hand there while the other undid John’s pants. He gave one long stroke to John’s cock before moving his hand back to John’s ass. He broke the kiss, growling low as he felt the wetness coming out of his omega before pushing two fingers roughly in.

“Sherlock,” John moaned as he opened his legs. “We – I – the bed,” he said as he tried to make a coherent statement. He looked at Sherlock, but instead of the cold blue eyes that looked at the world logically, the eyes he looked at now were blown black. He tried to push his alpha off of him but Sherlock was even heavier than normal. Sherlock held him against the wall and bit close to John’s face with a low growl. All he could do was shake his head no as he was turned and pressed against the wall as Sherlock’s fingers came out. His trousers and pants were pulled down and his alpha pushed fully in.

“Mine,” Sherlock growled. The only reply was John whimpering in pain which didn’t seem to register. The thrusting, hard and deep, started as John tried to keep himself upright, his hands flat on the wall and his nails trying to dig in. It didn’t take long until Sherlock’s knot passed into him, crying out in pain as Sherlock seemed to roar. John closed his eyes and unconsciously bared his neck, screaming as Sherlock sank his teeth into John’s neck where a bond bite would go. He didn’t struggle, not wanting Sherlock to bite deeper, and the long moment seemed over when Sherlock gave it a lick. He whimpered and shivered, moving off the wall and back into Sherlock. He closed his eyes as he felt Sherlock move him into the bedroom where it took little time for Sherlock to start up moving with the knot inside of him. He came that time against the sheets and Sherlock collapsed on top of him.

As John slept that night, the only dreams that came to him were of him being locked to the bed with a swollen belly. As his dream self started to give birth to what seemed to be an unlimited number of pups, Irene’s words rang through him about putting on a show for one psychopath. Instead of Sherlock being the alpha overseeing the pregnancy, all he saw was Moriarty and the Cheshire Cat grin and all he heard were gunshots as he smelled blood.


	15. The Middle of the Scandal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The middle of the Scandal arc at the moment with the aftermath of Sherlock's rut and John's heat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags are updated - please mind them due to them also being warnings - and yes, this really will be 40 chapters. I just finished the outline and, save for being on the fence of doing a Hound chapter set in the episode, it's pretty much set in stone. I'll try to update better but I'm also working on trying to finish original works as well to publish something, so please have patience with me. 
> 
> As always, THANK YOU for all the kudos, comments, bookmarks, and hits. I love all of you, even though I don't really know you. :)

John woke up to the sound of people talking in the other room and that he hurt all over. The hurt felt like it went right down to his bones, but the part of him that hurt the most was his head. It felt like someone was drumming in his head and he was grateful for the pills and water next to the bed. There was also a note that he picked up after taking the two pills and drinking the entire glass of water. He blinked at the simple “I’m sorry” in Sherlock’s handwriting on one side and, on the other in the same handwriting “you started this”. 

As he went from a sitting position to a standing one, steading himself on the table by the bed, he tried to think back to what happened. He remembered coming home from meeting Irene and everything with the people who broke in and Mrs. Hudson. Then there was a kiss and going to bed for the heat but after that… nothing. That was highly unusual, considering that he usually remembered every detail, but there was no real time to dwell on that. He grabbed some of his clothes and went into the bathroom to clean up. Considering all the muck on him, he wondered if they had gone the full length on the heat, something they hadn’t done since… well, since Moriarty started the entire mess. He put his dirty clothes in the hamper, seeing it only half full so probably laundry in the next couple of days, and went out to the living room after he was fully dressed.

“Hello,” he said to Lestrade and then looked over to see that Mycroft was in his usual spot. “What’d I miss?”

“Aside from your mate being an annoying prick, not much,” Lestrade said. “Bombing couple of days ago; I tried to reach the both of you then, but… well, you were occupied. A good thing too, considering…”

“Considering I was a suspect until they heard about what we’ve been doing,” Sherlock said, not looking up from the photos he was looking at.

John moved to the table in front of the couch, looking down at the photos and something twisting in his gut. “That’s the clinic,” he said quietly and looked to Lestrade. “Was anybody hurt?”

“No,” Lestrade said. “Lucky too – Doctor Sawyer was just going in to open the clinic when it blew up. A few minutes later and she would have… well, it’s good that she was late that morning.”

“Hmm,” Sherlock said, keeping the photo in his hand as he got up. He moved over to John and handed over the photo. 

John took a deep breath, thinking _too early without coffee or tea_ , before looking down at the photograph. “Is that – that’s a pipe bomb.” He turned the picture, about to ask Sherlock for a magnifier when the alpha passed him one, and looked at it again. “Military made. Let me get a cup of tea and I’ll look over the patient list.”

“You can’t wait five minutes?” Sherlock asked.

“No, considering I just woke up and you’ve been up for hours,” John countered and went into the kitchen. He put on the kettle to boil, deciding a good cup of tea would be better than coffee, and raised an eyebrow as Mycroft joined him. “What?”

“I’ve been saying the same thing for an hour yet he wouldn’t listen until you said something yourself,” Mycroft said. “In fact, he seems to try to tie it back on Moriarty.”

John didn’t answer that, getting down two cups and the right amount of tea, before going for the milk and sugar. “What day is it?”

“It’s the sixth,” Mycroft said. “By Sherlock’s account, it went for four and then you both were dead asleep for the fifth.”

“Sherlock would have to be dead to sleep,” John said, smiling as he heard Mycroft chuckle. “He was happy when he heard the news, wasn’t he?”

“Of course I was,” Sherlock said. “Out,” he ordered to Mycroft.

“Manners, Sherlock,” Mycroft said as he got up and went into the other room.

John looked at his mate before turning away to make sure that he had the right amount of tea and everything ready. Unlike times in the past, he didn’t jump when he felt Sherlock wrap an arm around his waist and draw him close. He relaxed, moving his head so his alpha could get to the site with the bond mark, and closed his eyes a bit. “What happened?” 

Sherlock kissed the shoulder before moving and giving a small swipe of his tongue to the bond mark. He rested his head on John’s shoulder as John shivered from the lick. “You went into heat and I went into rut,” he said.

“Doesn’t really answer the question,” John countered as he relaxed more against Sherlock. Even though he had just gotten up, he felt he could just laze against his alpha and go back to sleep within moments. 

“At the end of things, we’re animals, John. When an alpha drops into rut, all they want to do is mate and mark until their beast is sated. Considering it happened during your heat, it just made the experience better for the both of us by keeping you in a state of being ready for me for hours on end. Which is what I think happened in the end. Also, the mind went to a more animalistic mindset, so neither of us really remembers anything. All I remember is being so angry that you smelled like Irene and then… nothing. You might remember more,” Sherlock said and sniffed behind John’s ear. “You smell a bit different.”

“I think that’s your fault,” John said. “I remember the heat starting and going into the bedroom. After that, nothing.” He sighed as the kettle went off and reluctantly moved to pour water onto the tea. “What happens now?”

“Nothing changes,” Sherlock said. “Save for you following exactly as I say.”

John’s spine stiffened as he heard that and he turned to look at Sherlock. “I’m sorry?”

“You are going to do what I say from now on,” Sherlock said. “And it’s far too dangerous for you to work at the clinic, so you aren’t going back there. Sarah’s not even sure if she wants to open it again but move on to a hospital setting. I… well, more Mycroft, will be making sure that she gets what she needs to either reopen the clinic or make sure there’s a place for her at St Bart’s. You, on the other hand, will just help me on cases full time.”

John opened his mouth to protest but then thought better of it. It was hard enough finding the job at the clinic in the first place. If Sarah wasn’t going to reopen, what other choice was there than to work with Sherlock full time? And it wasn’t like he wouldn’t use his skills as a doctor, considering that his alpha decided that sometimes the best course of action was to dive head first into a wall. “What if I get bored?”

“When have you been bored?” Sherlock asked.

John thought about it for a moment, the bored times, and realized they were when nothing was happening. He was working, that’s true, but just sick people in and out, all day long. There was no change in the schedule, nothing that made him really live, save for droning on to the next task, and looked up at a smiling Sherlock. “That’s still creepy.”

“You’re the one who made me smile,” Sherlock countered. “Alright, if you ever get fully bored, tell me and we’ll call up Mycroft. He’s always got something that I should help him with.” The smile slipped off of Sherlock’s face as he thought of what was coming next. “And I don’t want to share you, John. Not without very good reason.”

“Oi, are the two of you done? One of us has to actually work,” Lestrade called from the other room.

John moved from Sherlock, finished the making of the tea and handed Sherlock his cup. He took his cup and went into the other room, sitting down on the couch where Sherlock had been before. “So, patient list.”

Lestrade handed it over. “Any vets on staff?”

“Aside from me? No,” John said, looking through the patient list. He circled a few names as he looked through the list and handed it back to Lestrade. “Those are the ones that I remembered having problems from time to time. Might be others, but I’m not remembering at the moment. I underlined the names of the vets but I don’t remember any of them having problems with the clinic.”

“So, now you two can go,” Sherlock said. 

“Sherlock, be nice,” John said.

“This is him being nice,” Mycroft said as he got up from the chair. “Do try not to kill each other. The paperwork would be messy.”

Sherlock just rolled his eyes and went to pick at his violin. John smiled and got up, letting the two out of the flat and going down the stairs. “So, you’ll keep me in the loop?”

“Both of you, really,” Lestrade said. “We’ll get to the bottom of this. You two focus on getting well. See you at home,” he said to Mycroft before leaving.

Mycroft looked at John and then at the stairs. “I’ll say this quickly, before he decides to come see that you’re close to the door, but if you need anything, don’t hesitate to contact me. I know that we got off to a rocky start, but I do want to help.”

“I know,” John said. “I think we’re better now.”

“I hope so,” Mycroft said and gave John a card. “Just in case.” He smiled and made his way to the car where Anthea was waiting for him.

John put the card in his pocket, closing and locking the front door before going back up to the flat. He closed and locked the flat door as well before going to the kitchen and making some food. When it was ready, Sherlock stopped playing and came to sit with John, picking at the plate that was at his space. They let the silence flow between them, until it was time for bed, and instead of going upstairs to his own room, he went into their room. He was ready to change the sheets, but it seemed like Sherlock already did. He smiled, pulling back the covers, and burrowing in to sleep.

*~*~*~*

After that, it seemed like John couldn’t leave the flat without Sherlock following him. The situation wasn’t the worst thing ever, until Sherlock decided to start complaining about the shopping, but it was a bit unnerving. They got back to the flat from Scotland Yard and John was about to ask a question when Sherlock just froze. “What?”

Sherlock didn’t answer, moving over to look at something before moving to their bedroom. “We’ve got a visitor,” he said, opening the door for John to see a sleeping Irene in their bed. In the next moment, he slammed the door with as much force as he could before stalking off towards his chair.

John opened the door, seeing a now awake Irene, and shrugged. “Tea?” he asked.

“Would be nice,” Irene said as she run her fingers through her hair.

John was about to say something else when he realized that Irene was sleeping on Sherlock’s side of the bed. He just gave a nod and went to make tea for the three of them, clenching his bad hand as it started to shake. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to calm down, before realizing that the anger he was feeling was not all of his own. _Oi, calm down._

 _I might, later_ was the reply but the anger did slowly start to dissipate. 

John made the tea, coming back out with it and sitting down at the table with his laptop. It would be a distraction, since Irene seemed to be back to wanting Sherlock and making him feel like he didn’t exist. She wanted him to crack a code and he didn’t seem all that willing to do that as he looked over the code in the first place. All it took was a kiss to Sherlock’s cheek and he was off, figuring out the code and asking John to look something up. It ended with Sherlock sitting back down and looking like he retreated to the mind palace.

“Will he come back out?” Irene asked.

“Depends on how far deep he is,” he replied with a shrug. 

“In other words, you don’t know,” she said. “You also don’t look any worse for wear.”

He blinked and tilted his head, looking at her in a new light. “How – “

“Big brother isn’t the only one checking in on the two of you,” she said. “And he likes to go on and on when we can’t do anything else. I’m sure the two of you have those times as well.”

“Just because we do doesn’t mean we talk about them,” he said. “And, for the record, I’m not jealous. I pity you, a bit.”

“I don’t need pity,” she said. “I knew what was going to happen the moment it did. I just did what you did; I stayed and fought for everything that I have. When this started, I was just a call girl. Before that, I was a street urchin because I ran away from a broken home with a drunk for a father who beat my mum. Sound familiar?”

“Just because we might have the same type of family doesn’t mean we’re similar at all,” he said. “You got what you wanted; why are you still here?”

“Got to wait for Mycroft to catch up,” she said. She took a step towards John but stopped as he stepped back. She took for sitting in his chair instead. “He was that unhappy?”

“You got him to hurt me and he’s been more than cautious ever since, so… yes,” he said. He was about to say more but the words didn’t come. “Why?”

“Is it that unbelievable to think that you’re desirable? Or are you still thinking that I’m using you to get to Sherlock? If I wanted him, then I would have taken him by now. I would not still be dancing around with trying to impress him. I was told to have fun and I am,” she said, moving closer to John. “Might be better if you did as well.”

John automatically moved away, closer to the couch by Sherlock, and wasn’t ready for his alpha reaching out for him and pulling him down. He went with the pull, ending up in Sherlock’s lap and having both arms wrapped around him. “Don’t think I’m allowed.”

“Not alone, you aren’t,” Sherlock said. He moved, moving so that John was more on the couch than in Sherlock’s lap. He rested his head on John’s shoulder and looked at Irene. “I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to, just this one time, because it’s her.”

John looked up at Irene but he could feel Sherlock tense behind him. Tension with the unspoken words that, as much as his mate was doing this for him, Sherlock would hate every moment of it too. In the end, he shook his head no and just curled up against Sherlock. He stayed that way, listening to the other two talk, until Irene pressed another cup of tea into his hands. “Thank you.”

Irene just smiled at him and went back to the conversation with Sherlock. He drank all of the tea and tried to say something, but the words came out slurred. He could feel himself being picked up and taken into Sherlock’s room. It was what he remembered as he went to sleep, only waking up when Sherlock came back at some time, smelling of leather that was usually found in one of Mycroft’s offices, and curling up close next to him. He let it lull him back to sleep, knowing that the questions of what happened would be answered in the morning.


	16. Dinner (or After Scandal)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and Irene have dinner. Real dinner, not what they were dancing around in the episode.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. My apologies to anybody reading this from New Jersey. It's a lovely state and my beta for all things non slashy is from there. So I thank it for existing. :)
> 
> 2\. The internet has taught me many things, like that Martin Freeman eyes seem to be a dark blue-grey and made of magic. 
> 
> As always, thank you for the comments, kudos, and general love that y'all are showing my fic. I'm going to try to speed things up, since we're getting over the speed bumps of the fic, but I make no promises.

It had been an easy decision, Sherlock reasoned, as he lifted the sword that was going to be used to defend Irene’s life instead of end it. Plus, there was the fact that Mycroft interfered, yet again, and placed the information right under his nose. He wasn’t going to sit by while they both could use someone like her in order to get to Moriarty. Get Moriarty, John was protected and life could possibly start to be normal. Or normal like. Anything could be better than it was at the moment but at least they didn’t fight much. They weren’t having sex either but they were sleeping in the same bed every night. It was one step in the right direction.

He controlled the sigh that wanted to escape him at how exasperated he was at all of this. If anything, this taught him that omegas were nothing but dangerous and could possibly rule the world. The fact that he didn’t understand that with Mycroft’s reach was… no, he was not giving his brother credit for pulling the rug over his eyes. Nope. He deleted the thought and moved into place, watching Irene type a text into her phone. He knew there was a chance that the text could go to him, John, Moriarty, or a dropbox that deleted everything off of the phone when completed. 

The answer came after the phone was taken away and the sword was raised. The text sound made Irene look up at him and smile. “When I say run, run,” he ordered before turning and taking the head of the man closest to him. “Run!” he called out as machine fire came from behind them. They were able to take cover until Mycroft’s men called out clear. He got up, pulling off the headwear and thick veil. 

“That was fun,” Irene said, getting up gracefully. “Dinner?”

“Depends on if you’re actually hungry or not,” Sherlock said.

“I am,” she replied. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he said, leading the way to the jeeps that were waiting. They both climbed into one and he took the satellite phone that was handed to him. “Of course it was successful. Don’t be an idiot, it doesn’t become you.” He hung up without listening to whatever Mycroft was going to say next and nodded to the driver to start going. “You have questions, I hope, otherwise this is going to be a short evening.”

“Most were answered by the tone of your voice,” she said. “As the only one who can provoke that kind of response from you is big brother.”

“Who actually likes the nickname given to him,” he said. 

“He’s a strange man. You expected less?” she asked. “I know that you don’t like yours, but you still are in many ways. Offering John to me was a very sweet move though.”

“You’ve got it backwards.”

“Hmm,” she said as she watched him. “So what is the payment for this evening?”

“Dinner,” he said. “And questions when we get there. After that, depending on how useful you are, I believe there’s money and a new identity or something.”

“You should pay more attention to the little details,” she said.

“I do. Politics bore me. Con women bore me even more.”

“That took you long enough,” she said.

“The dominatrix was more interesting. Although, I must say that your accent is spectacular for an American. Most can’t pull it off.”

“Do you want me to keep it?” she asked, slipping into a Jersey accent with ease.

“Yes,” he said. “If only because that accent will lower more IQ points than when Anderson is simply in the room.”

“Phillip Anderson?” she asked, slipping back into the British accent. “Glad to know I’m not the only one who thinks about that.”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow as a deep part of him wanted to object due to some idea of defending Donovan’s honor. He put that aside for the moment and made a mental note to get a message through Lestrade to her. Anything from him directly would be dismissed on the idea of freak. “Your standards need to be raised.”

“Not if I can use information against someone working for the police instead of consulting for them,” she countered. She smiled as the jeep came to a stop and Sherlock’s door was opened. “Shall we?”

“Yes,” he said, getting out of the vehicle and offering her a hand. After that, he led her into the base and to the room where there was a table set up with food waiting for them. He nodded to the soldier who was in the room, ignoring the pang of missing John due to the soldier being short and blonde but without the dark blue grey eyes, and waited for the door to be closed. He waited for her to take her seat before he took his. “Dinner.”

“I expected something more comfortable,” she said.

“Perhaps you should have thought before actually calling him the Ice Man,” he countered. “Nothing is going to be comfortable for a very long time. Shall we get down to business?”

“You have all the information on my phone; what else could you possibly need from me?”

“Your employer,” he replied.

She chuckled. “No.”

He raised an eyebrow at hearing that. “No?”

She smiled at him. “The two of you are really not communicating, are you?”

“Don’t bring John into this.”

“You did that,” she said. “You brought him in and made him stay. He is very much a part of this and will continue to be. It’s your own fault, which explains why you feel so guilty about keeping him safe. It’s very cute and alpha of you, Sherlock.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I do not feel guilty and we are getting off the subject. I want your employer.”

“If you talked to John, then you would understand why that’s not possible,” she said. “But you can’t just call him up and ask, can you? You’re not supposed to be here. I’m supposed to be dead. But I’m not.”

 _There it is_ he thought and he looked at her. “Who is your alpha?”

“So close,” she said as she leaned back in the chair.

“Moriarty’s your alpha and employer,” he said. “If I wasn’t there, then someone would have been to take out the executioner.”

“Moran knew it was you and, therefore, didn’t shoot. He likes being a good little lapdog, even though he could easily take charge in that relationship.” She sighed and flicked some dust away from the table. “I also refuse to eat or drink anything either of them gives me or be close to them outside of heats. It protects me.”

“I will give you smart,” he said. “Why not take it? Then you’d be free and clear to do whatever you want.”

“The world revolves on money and connections,” she countered. “We should get back to you and John now that we’re done with mine.”

He paused a moment before passing over a pen and paper. “Give us a general location within four blocks to find him.”

She wrote it out and handed it back, watching him cross over to the room and hand it to a trusted aide. He walked back, never showing his back to her, and she chuckled. “I don’t have anything to subdue you with this time.”

“I’d rather be cautious. That and I don’t like headaches.”

She lifted the dome and looked down at the steak, potatoes, and vegetables that waited for her. “Despite the horrible accommodations, the food might be good.”

He came back and sat down. “You have another ten minutes.”

She started to eat then. “Did the two of you ever have a conversation that laid out the terms?”

He wrinkled his brow in confusion. “Why would we do that?”

“For all your smarts, you are an idiot at this,” she said. “To lay out what you both wanted from the relationship. The way that you’re going about things… well, you’re just lucky that the bond doesn’t break on its own.”

He considered that and filed the idea of a conversation away for later times. “Why are you helping?”

“I like the two of you together,” she said. “He’s an innocent wrapped in a socially acceptable killer. He’s perfect for you, but the two of you are really making a mess of things. Honestly, a rut?”

“Says the one mated to a psychopath.”

“Yes, but our rules are the reason that we work so well together,” she said. “Even when he threatens to make me into shoes.”

He thought about that, letting them lapse into silence until he heard the knock at the door. He got up and went to the door, looking at Anthea. “Well?”

“We have him,” Anthea said and handed a large envelope over. “Flight back is ready when you are. There’s another plane that will take her where she decides to go.”

“Good,” he said as he took the envelope and turned back to Irene. The door closed behind him but the lock wasn’t activated this time. He walked over and put the envelope down on the table. “Until next time?”

“You do own my life, considering that you saved it. Nothing that you want to ask me to do?”

He thought about that for a while and pulled out the cell phone that was in there. He wrote down the number, memorizing it as he did, and put the cell phone back. “Keep that phone; I might need you to look after John if something happens.”

“You can feel it coming, can’t you?”

“I always feel the east wind coming; it’s been coming for me since I was a child,” he said and turned, walking out of the room. He didn’t explain that Mycroft would scare him about that wind but he was now wondering if the old tale was true. It was something to think about on the flight back to England and sneaking into the flat. He smiled at seeing John asleep on the couch as the telly droned on. He turned it off and pulled a cover over his mate. He was about to walk quietly to the experiments when John’s hand took his. 

“Hi,” he whispered. “Good trip?”

“Yes,” Sherlock said quietly. “Mycroft got Moriarty earlier.”

“Hmm. He wanted you to call; said the time didn’t matter but Lestrade will probably kill you if you call now.”

“Then I won’t call,” Sherlock said, noting it was nearly five in the morning. “I’ll go do an experiment or two. I slept on the plane.” He paused for a moment, thinking about John falling asleep on the couch. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You haven’t fallen asleep on the couch in a while,” Sherlock replied and felt John’s forehead and cheeks. “No fever, unless it’s slight, but your eyes are bright and clear. You’ve possibly put on a couple pounds – “

“Well, they’ve got to go somewhere when you decide to shed them,” John retorted. “If you’re going to wake me up fully, then you can put on some coffee.”

Sherlock took John in for a moment before moving in and softly kissing his omega. He relaxed as he felt John kiss back and pull him towards the sofa, sitting down where John’s legs had been. This close, he could smell that there was something different, but he pushed down the deductive reasoning for once. He pulled John into his lap and gently broke the kiss. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too – it’s why I slept on the couch. I wanted to wait for you,” John said. He leaned down, kissing Sherlock as he started to undo the shirt. He moved his hands in, lightly running his fingertips down Sherlock’s ribs. “Yes, very much skin and bones.”

Sherlock smirked at that, pulling off John’s jumper and undoing the shirt beneath before throwing it in the direction of the jumper. “You wear too many clothes,” he said before kissing the middle of his omega’s chest as one hand went up to tease. The other hand went south, undoing John’s pants and slipping in to stroke slowly. 

“You’re one to talk,” John said, rubbing against Sherlock as he tried to get his alpha undressed. “Sherlock,” he gasped as the man’s fingers flicked at the tip. “I’m not going to last if you – God,” he groaned.

Sherlock smirked, doing it one more time before removing his hands. “Up,” he said, helping his omega up and then getting rid of his own pants and then John’s pants. He sat back down, helping John sit back down on his lap as he slowly went into his omega. He groaned at the slick, thinking how perfect John was at this moment, ready for him. “Alright?”

John took a breath before nodding. He started to move, resting his hands on Sherlock’s shoulders to help him as he did so. It didn’t take long for Sherlock to help with his hands on John’s waist, moving his omega faster. Sherlock could feel the knot swelling as they both moved faster with Sherlock slamming inside of John as his omega came over his shirt. He rested his head on Sherlock’s shoulder, catching his breath and then chuckling. “We have good makeup sex.”

“We always have good sex,” Sherlock said and kissed John’s cheek. He groaned as he heard his cell phone buzz with a text message. “Mycroft.”

“Well, you can answer him while I go take a shower,” John said. He slowly got up and went towards the bathroom.

Sherlock quickly found his phone and read the text that simply said _Call or text back._ He sighed and texted back _Well?_

_Plan Criminal is going into effect unless you object._

Sherlock rolled his eyes; Mycroft made his objections long ago about how feeding Moriarty information on him was stupid. He did not need to go over that one more time in his life. _No objection. Have fun._

 _Not as much as you do._ was the reply.

Sherlock looked around the room and wrinkled his nose at the idea of Mycroft having the flat bugged again. He put sweeping the flat on the to-do list as he heard the shower start, getting up and joining John for what he hoped was round two.


	17. Flip a Coin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a side trip to Mycroft and Lestrade land.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, hi again. Thank you everyone for being patient with this fic. I have a goal of having this fic completely done by the end of August, provided that nothing RL comes and smacks me, and I want to stick to it. Again, thank you for reading, for kudos, and patience. :) Please enjoy.

Dinner was on the late side but neither Mycroft nor Lestrade minded. They sat alone in a sitting room, eating quietly with the telly on low for the football match Lestrade recorded earlier. Mycroft could tell that his mate wanted to speak about something but he was ignoring the fact that he was the one who was supposed to ask. Years of being with Sherlock gave him the patience of an almost saint, so he kept eating and keeping an eye on his phone while stealing glances of the match. He only noticed something was wrong when Lestrade gave a cough to cue he wanted to talk about something. "Are you going for subtle tonight?"

"I guess," Lestrade said, leaning back in the chair. "I realized something when I couldn't sleep last night."

"You could have woken me and we could have talked about it then."

Lestrade chuckled. "You get too little sleep as it is. I wasn't about to wake you up for something that could wait. Besides, I wasn't even sure how to start anyways."

"Is it about not having a heat for a while now?" Mycroft kept a good eye on his body as it came to heats and he didn't deny the thoughts of going into an omega menopause. He was getting on in years, even if Lestrade thought he was still young at heart. "We all age. I figure that the change is starting, that's all."

"And it doesn't freak you out?"

"No. If anything, I'm comforted by it. It means that life is going on and that I was never meant to have a child in the first place. It's not like we haven't been trying - well, not recently, when we decided to take a break from trying - but we've been doing nearly everything we can. It's just not meant to be." Mycroft sighed. "I should schedule an appointment to make sure."

"Don't unless you want to." Lestrade took his hand. "I'll come with you, if you want. Emotional support, even if you don't feel you need it."

Mycroft kissed his mate's hand. "Thank you, Gregory. I know I'll need it. I'm not about to say that I'll be strong enough on my own. Also, there is always the extremely slim possibility it's the other thing, but I won't hold my breath."

"Wouldn't you have felt something by now?" 

"Not if I'm going through the hormonal phase first, since we went off the drugs. I could be going into a year pregnancy, which will be horrible, but I'll get through it." Mycroft sighed.

"We'll get through it," Lestrade corrected. "What do you think of the match so far?"

"That we should turn the volume up as it's actually interesting." Mycroft grinned as Lestrade did so and they finished the rest of their meal. They curled up on the couch until Mycroft's phone rang and he got up to take it, moving into another room. Lestrade's phone also took the time to chime with a text message for a crime scene. He called Donovan, getting the details, before knocking on the door to tell Mycroft he was heading out. He got to the crime scene, looking it over at the cut up body with two different arms, two different legs, a missing head, and something going on with the middle.

"Boss?" Donovan asked.

"Hmm?" Lestrade asked, texting the photo to Sherlock with the address.

"Is the freak having an effect on you?" 

"I'm of the mind that a picture is worth a thousand words," he replied as Sherlock texted that they were on their way. "Also, there hasn't been any new stories on the blog for a while."

"Well, now I'm on board," she deadpanned before moving off to talk to some people that were milling around. 

He shook his head, playing with his phone a bit more as he texted Mycroft that he probably wouldn't be back for a while. He turned his head as he heard a car stop and realized it was a taxi with the detective and his blogger. He handed over a pair of gloves to Sherlock before stepping back to speak with John. "Sorry to drag you out."

"We were about to get out Cluedo, so I'm glad you did," John replied. "I'm of the mind that it was by a doctor. Sherlock agrees, but he wanted a closer look before completely agreeing. How are you holding up?"

"Had a good dinner before coming out, so can't complain," Lestrade said. He was quiet a moment before lowering his voice and asking "what should I be looking for in an omega going into menopause?"

John blinked, looking at Lestrade, and thinking. "Same thing as a woman going into menopause, really. Isn't it too soon for Mycroft though?" he asked in the same quiet voice.

"That's what I think, but I think he's got it in his mind that it can't be anything else," Lestrade replied as Sherlock came over. "What do you think?"

"That you finally gave us a case worthy of a seven," Sherlock replied. "John's right about it being a doctor. Looks like a patchwork than anything else - taking the parts they didn't use, making a body, and then throwing it out."

John moved over to the body, kneeling down and looking it over. "It's not an established doctor. The stitching isn't perfect, even for patchwork, and it's along all the muscles. Probably black market."

"We've got more than a few contacts for that," Sherlock said. "Might want to contact the other Holmes for this case, Lestrade."

"You don't want to solve this one?" John asked.

"It is now boring," Sherlock said before moving off with his coat blowing out behind him.

Lestrade rolled his eyes. "I'll email over the case file in case he gets truly bored."

"Thanks," John said. He was about to say something else when his name was loudly called. "Email me about the other thing as well if you get a chance. Or I'll try to drop in on Mycroft as doctor and not family."

"That works," Lestrade said, both turning when Sherlock yelled again. "Better go."

"He's an arse, that's all," John said but moved off.

Lestrade sighed and dialed Mycroft's number. He left a message about the case when it went to voice mail and shared what he knew with Donovan. They got the body to the morgue as another long night of work awaited everyone.


	18. Time Crawls On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set before Hound - food poisoning or something more?

John woke up from a sound sleep in the middle of the night as a wave of nausea hit him. He was upstairs in his room, knowing that Sherlock was mind deep in an experiment, and made for the bathroom. He got to the sink before he started to dry heave, not feeling anything coming up from his stomach, and splashed water on his face when he was done. He sighed and dried his face, looking at himself in the mirror and thinking his face was a bit swollen. He wrote it off as being tired before going back to bed. Now the problem was that he couldn't sleep and it sounded too quiet downstairs. He got back up, quietly going to the stairs, and going downstairs. He noticed Sherlock laying on the couch in the thinking pose and went into the alpha's bedroom. It was easier to fall asleep there and he slept until he heard noises in the kitchen.

When he sat up, another wave of nausea hit, stronger than last night, but with actual vomit this time. He flushed the toilet before washing out his mouth and turning around to nearly run into Sherlock. "What - I wasn't that loud."

Sherlock shrugged and offered the glass of water he was holding. "Not sure how I heard it, but I did. I told you we should have eaten at our usual place last night."

"I don't think this is bad Greek food." John sighed. "Let me get some tea and I'll feel right as rain." He smiled at Sherlock rolling his eyes at the expression and went out to the kitchen. He put water on to boil as he got his favorite cup and a bit of tea. He turned around to the kitchen table, seeing it full of eyeballs in various states of decay, decomposition, and cut up to see the various parts. Sherlock came into the kitchen, about to launch into why exactly he was doing this when John turned around and threw up in the sink. He took a deep breath as it passed, feeling Sherlock hovering behind him, and shook his head. 

"You've never had a trigger to eyes before," Sherlock said quietly.

"First time for everything. Mind putting it away?" To Sherlock's credit, there wasn't any arguing, hearing Sherlock move behind him to pick up the eyes on the table. "Okay yet?"

"No," Sherlock replied. John moved as Sherlock got out the least offensive of the cleaning supplies with smells and cleaned the table as well. "Okay, now."

John turned around to a cleared and cleaned table and sat down. As soon as he sat down, the kettle went but Sherlock was there to put together the tea. He put the cup in front of John and sat down opposite, looking him over. "I'm okay. Really. I wouldn't mind food if you want to cook. Or go downstairs for it. Now I'm starving."

The alpha looked worried for a second longer before nodding and helping John up. As he got close, he leaned in before licking and sniffing the bond bite, making John go limp against him, and Sherlock tensed. There was a different smell but he also knew that John did need to eat. "Soft food and toast. Nothing fried."

"M'kay," John said, still a bit dazed, and leaning against Sherlock. "That felt really good.”

“Going to lower you back down into the chair. I’ll get dressed and get you some clothes, okay? If you can hold down the food, then we’ll go do something else. If not… well, we’ll see where it goes from there.”

“Small stomach virus,” John replied.

“We’ll see,” Sherlock said. He left John with the tea before going into the bedroom and grabbing his cell phone. He went into his contacts, scrolling down to the Ms and Mycroft's name, but his fingers hesitated. He wasn't sure that he wanted to drag his brother into whatever was happening, no mattered how worried, as it would probably mean cameras in the flat again. It took him five hours last time to get all of them, if only because his brother actually made him work that time. No, this was something he was going to have to do on his own as he went to another contact, double checking the address to make sure that it was still there, before calling and setting up a tentative appointment. He got dressed quickly before running up the stairs to John's room. He got the most comfortable looking clothes he could find, going back down the stairs to see John sipping at the tea. "Alright?"

"It's staying down." John looked at the clothing, taking it from Sherlock and slowly getting up to go to the bedroom to change. The dizziness that was there with the nausea had gone away a bit, so he was feeling optimistic. When he came back out, it was to Sherlock putting together some toast and scrambled eggs, both cooked enough for his liking, and smiled at the alpha. "Thank you."

"You'd do the same for me if you haven't already," Sherlock said and watched John sit back down. He served the food, watching the omega eat and carefully watching for signs that any of the food would come back up. When John was done, he grabbed the dishes before John could make a move for the sink, cleaning up for the first time in... well, he had probably deleted the last time he did such a task. The small difference in John's smell was flirting at the back of his mind, but he shoved it away. He was about to say something when John got up and went into the bathroom.

John was hoping to keep the food down but it came back up anyways. He felt his forehead and did feel a bit warmer but nothing to worry about. He sighed and was about to stand up when he vomited again. Sure that he was alright this time, he got up and washed out his mouth again. He washed his face and looked up to see Sherlock in the doorway. "I'm going to head to a clinic. It's probably nothing, but better safe than sorry. Means you can go back to your eyes."

Sherlock hesitated. Normally, he would be more than happy to do so, but he surprised the both of them when he said "I think I should come."

John raised an eyebrow. "You're going to get bored."

"Like you aren't?" Sherlock countered. "I can keep us both amused with deductions."

"As long as you don't make anyone cry." John sighed. "This is silly. You're probably right about the food and I shouldn't waste anyone's time."

"You're going," Sherlock said. "I don't want you getting worse."

John shrugged. "Then let's go." They both grabbed their coats, making sure they had everything, before going out to the street. Sherlock did his magic to get a cab and gave an address that John couldn't really hear. He leaned against Sherlock after they got in and wasn't really surprised when the alpha put an arm around him. "Going to have to get sick more often if this is what you're like."

"Hmm," was Sherlock's response as John could hear him typing on his mobile with the other hand.

John chuckled lightly as he dozed on their way to their destination. As the cab stopped, he opened his eyes, looking a bit confused as they were in a quiet and posh neighborhood. They were in front of a clinic and he looked up at Sherlock. "Do I want to know?"

"Mycroft's not involved. You said a clinic but not what clinic," Sherlock pointed out. "Family doctor works out of here and you're family. Plus, the two of you can swap stories and not just of me. Doctor Wakefield was in the Falklands."

"Okay," John said. He got out of the cab with Sherlock following after he paid the driver. He followed Sherlock into the clinic, looking around at how clean and quiet it was, before going up to the desk. 

"The tentative appointment for Doctor John Watson," Sherlock said. "I wasn't sure that you were going to need it."

"Okay," John said with a nod. He didn't question when they were sent back immediately and was surprised that his pulse and blood pressure were normal. The only thing odd was a slightly elevated temperature but, as the nurse said, nothing to worry about. When she left, John had a thought and looked around before picking up the calendar.

"You're being loud again," Sherlock said, looking up from his mobile.

"You don't have to listen in. And you're being loud too." John counted back from today, thinking about when he had his last heat. When he realized it had been a couple months, he paled. "Sherlock... I don't think it was the food."

A man with salt and pepper hair and kind brown eyes came into the room, looking at John before smiling at seeing Sherlock. “Hello Sherlock," he said before turning to John. "I'm Doctor Wakefield. Why don't you hop up and we'll take a look."

"Yeah." John put the calendar down and got up for the doctor to go through checking out the usual. He looked over to Sherlock, who was playing with the mobile but clearly focused on what was happening, and turned his attention to Wakefield. "It might be a stomach bug or bad food. I noticed that I'm two months late to my heats."

"And his scent's changed," Sherlock said quietly from his corner.

"Then we'll order that test. Shouldn't take too long," Wakefield replied. "Any aches or pains I should know about?"

"Shoulder hurts from time to time from an old wound," Sherlock said.

"Let him talk for himself," Wakefield said.

"He's right," John said. "It hasn't been bothering me for a while. My leg bothers me from time to time, but it's nothing that can really be helped."

Wakefield nodded. "My hands twitch for the same reason. We're going to draw some blood and I'd like an urine sample if you feel that you can or want to. Figure that, while you're here, we can make sure that you're baseline healthy as well."

John nodded. "I can do that." A nurse came in to help with the blood sample and John went off to the restroom to fill the cup. When he came back, he sat down in one of the chairs in the room and closed his eyes for a moment. "Now you're being loud."

"You're sure about your last heat? We've been having sex. Too much of it."

"There's no such thing as too much. You just went from having some to none to having it whenever you really wanted it," John retorted. "And, yes, I'm sure. I know my own body. We've been running around and I... well, I didn't think. You can yell at me if you want to."

"Mycroft knows we're here too," Sherlock said quietly before sitting down next to John and taking his hands. "What if you're right?"

"We get ready," John said. "Nothing more, nothing less. You can still go on cases and I'll take care of the baby until she or he is old enough to be with a nanny."

"I don't like it."

John opened his eyes and looked at Sherlock. "Because my spotlight won't be on you?" He regretted it after he said it, mostly because he could tell that it hurt, but, at the same time, he was happy he said something. "You had to know that this was going to happen sooner or later. Or were you hoping that something would happen like Mycroft?"

Sherlock said nothing, getting up and moving away as Doctor Wakefield came back in. "Well?"

"Congratulations, you are expecting," Wakefield replied. "You're in the second month of the hormone adjustment, possibly near the end. I can recommend some doctors who know more about omega pregnancy. It's not my specialty, but it helps to have friends."

John opened his eyes to see that Sherlock was paler than normal and looked to Wakefield. "Thank you. I thought it would be that. Um, we'll take the names and we do need to talk about it a bit more too."

"Of course." Wakefield moved, going to a pad of paper and writing down a list of names and numbers. He handed them over to John. "The bottom one helps with termination, if that's what you wish to do."

John nodded, taking the list. "Thank you. Sherlock?"

Sherlock opened the door and walked down the hallway. He paid the receptionist the fee, waiting for John to catch up, before they went outside and hailed a taxi back to Baker Street. "You want it."

"I don't know what I want," John admitted. "We've got a month, maybe a bit more, before we can't do anything about it. There's no reason to make a decision now."

"If you're questioning and not knowing what you want, then it means that we shouldn't be having a child. The timing's wrong. We are finally understanding each other and this happens."

John touched Sherlock's arm, which relaxed the alpha, before he curled up against him. They stayed that way until Baker Street, when they got out and went up to the flat. He went to the kitchen to make a cup of tea, noticing that Sherlock followed and sat down at the table. "What if I did want it? There's no reason not to have a child. We're comfortable and there are a lot of people in worse relationships that have children all the time. I should know."

"Because I would want a child to grow up in a happy home. That doesn't include a home where I am living."

John stared at Sherlock for a long moment. "That's not true. I'm happy. Sure, there are bumps, but I'm happy. A child would happy here. What's really wrong?"

"Maybe I am the big bad sociopath that everyone warned you about. I don't want the child."

John sighed. "Well, good thing it's me caring it and we're not making the decision today. It's not that easy for me to kill a child. Like you just started, you're the one who's a sociopath, not me." He put the kettle on. "Call me when the tea's ready," he said before going upstairs and slamming the door to his room close. He curled up on the bed, feeling extremely tired, and fell asleep. When he woke up, there was a cup of tea for him and a Sherlock curled up around him. "Sorry," he whispered.

"Me too," Sherlock whispered back. "You're right. No decision today."

John smiled and sipped at the tea, finding it still warm. "I thought I slept."

"You did - two hours - so I got you a fresh cup before lying down again." Sherlock sighed. "It's scary."

"And you're not even the one carrying the child. We'll manage. We can do like I said. I'm not going to stop you from taking cases or anything else you want to do. Neither will our child. Maybe, even after a while, he or she will want to come with us. Or not. Or something in between. But we don't know if we don't try. Are you afraid of what we don't know or the pressure?"

"Both," Sherlock said quietly. "And I'm not that big of a sociopath that I would kill someone."

"I know," John replied and sighed. "We'll figure it out. For now, I'm going back to sleep."

"Okay." Sherlock stayed there, listening to John fall back asleep and kept close. As much as he didn't want the child, a small but extremely loud part did, and that was the part he was going to listen to in the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For people to understand - in this 'verse, when omegas get pregnant, unless their bodies were ready, they go through anywhere from one to three months of a hormone adjustment to make the body ready to grow a baby. After that, it's the usual nine months and then birth. I haven't figured out / decided if male omegas give birth naturally or have to have a C-section yet. So, yeah, thought I should say something. :D Cheers - hope you enjoyed the chapter!


	19. Protecting Both Your Heart and Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fears, real and imaginary, force a talk for the better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set during Hounds of Baskerville. All text that belongs to the episode is the property of Mark Gatiss and the BBC, although it is not in italics.
> 
> An amazing, big, more than I can ever express thank you to [Ariane DeVere aka Callie Sullivan](http://arianedevere.livejournal.com) for her transcript of the episode. I would have never gotten through without it.
> 
> Another amazing, big, you guys are forever awesome for all the comments, kudos, and everything else. I know I have comments to get back to but you should know that it helped me think on what to do next. So, I thank you from the bottom of my heart and typing fingers.

The first thing John noticed when he woke up that the flat was quiet. Too quiet. As much as he wanted to find out if Sherlock was up to something, the bed was warm and comfortable. He sighed deeply, realizing he needed the toilet, and slowly got out of bed. He went through his morning ritual, getting out to the living room at the same time that Mycroft was coming in. He nodded good morning, going to make the tea, before realizing the wrong brother came in. He put on water, enough for two, before he circled back and looked at the older Holmes brother. "Sherlock's not here at the moment."

"I deduced that as soon as I entered," Mycroft replied. "Would you mind if I waited?"

"Nah," John said. "Tea? Was going to make some toast too, if you want any. Finally keeping things down in the morning."

"Stomach virus?"

"Um, no... has Sherlock talked to you recently?" John asked and chuckled at the raised eyebrow. "Right. Best way to say is that you're going to be an uncle. Finally made a decision to keep it, even though it’s been… well, tense."

"Oh. Well, congratulations are in order then." Mycroft smiled, a bit more forced than usual. "How have you been feeling otherwise?"

"Fine." John sat down in Sherlock's chair, looking over Mycroft, and remembering what Lestrade asked for. "Greg talked to me. Have you seen anyone yet?"

"There hasn't been time. Unless you're offering, Doctor Watson, but last I checked, you're a general practitioner now."

"As well as everything else that Sherlock decides to come home with. Considering you're wearing your traditional suit, you're not having any hot flashes. Even with the weather we're having, you would be wearing something lighter. I doubt you'd be one to get anxious. Been more irritated than usual?"

Mycroft sighed. "I snapped at Anthea the other day for something she had no control over. And yes, I've been irritated at everyone but Gregory. I know better than to snap at him."

"That could be anything. Headaches, dizziness, any sort of weight gain or loss that can't be explained?"

"No," Mycroft snapped and rubbed his eyes. "This is a waste of time."

John was about to say more when the kettle sounded it was ready. "Well, at least have some tea and leave a note for Sherlock."

"I'll leave the note, but forget the tea, John. And thank you. You can at least tell Gregory what you think. And I am happy to hear about a little nephew or niece on the way."

"Right." John got up and looked at Mycroft. "Shoe on the other foot? You're holding in your emotions better than I would. I wouldn't have been able to stay and talk to you."

"A lifetime of having to mask your emotions or be mocked at for having them." Mycroft finished writing the note, leaving it by the ashtray from the palace, and gave the ashtray a long look. "Besides, you don't need my emotional reaction on top of Sherlock's."

"Yes, well, some days are better than others. And yes, he took that."

Mycroft nodded, touching John's shoulder a bit firmly before leaving.

John sighed and got the tea together, texting Greg after it was done to say what he thought of Mycroft, which was it was something other than menopause. He settled in his chair, unfolding the newspaper to have a quiet morning, and was only a bit through when the door banged open.

"Well, that was tedious."

John looked up at Sherlock covered in blood and holding a harpoon. "You went on the tube like that?"

"Well, none of the cabs would take me." Sherlock put the harpoon against the wall, heading towards the bathroom before he came back out. "Mycroft was here."

"Yes and he knows about the pregnancy. Or little one, as he was calling it."

"Hmm." Sherlock took the note from underneath the ashtray and went towards the bathroom.

"Or don't tell me," John said. He glared at the harpoon before turning on his heel and heading towards the skull. There was one emergency pack of smokes left in the flat and, as he put his hands on them, he was tempted to bin them but he put them back. He sighed and went into the kitchen, finally making some toast, and nibbling on it until his anger passed. Mycroft coming by was less and less and now there were notes. He was being kept out of the loop and he didn't like it but knew it was better than to press the issue.

He was back in his chair by the time Sherlock came back out. Now it was time for the alpha to look for the smokes and he just sat in the chair as Sherlock did so. The alpha had promised to quit, mostly because John pointed out it wasn't good for any of them, but it was getting to be too much. He was grateful when Henry Knight showed up and gave them a new case. Well, him a new case, considering that Sherlock wanted to chase about after a bunny. They were getting packed when John sat down on the bed and sighed.

"What?" Sherlock asked, his tone a bit sharp as he threw clothing into a suitcase.

"Anything you feel like telling me?"

"No." Sherlock put the suitcase on the bed, now putting in some other things, and closing it up. "We need to go."

"Right." John grabbed his clothes, packing things quickly, and heading down the stairs. Sherlock made a cab magically appear and they were about to get in when there was a loud crash from Speedy's. "Looks like Mrs. Hudson finally got to the wife in Doncaster."

"Hmm - Wait until she finds out about the one in Islamabad."

John chuckled and got into the cab after Sherlock. They were to Paddington Station quickly and onto the train to Devon. What he didn't expect was Sherlock to pay for first class but didn't question it. He got into the comfortable seat, looking out the window as Sherlock took the seat opposite. "This is nice," he said quietly.

"Easier to work," Sherlock replied, plugging in his phone to charge before handing over a menu that was on the table. "And you need to eat. Toast and tea only go so far."

John raised an eyebrow but took the menu, looking it over. "Nobody would think that I'm really the doctor, no."

"You're a horrible patient sometimes." Sherlock smiled before turning his attention to his chirping phone.

John smiled and ordered some soft food as they went on their way. He dozed afterwards, reclining the chair to get even more comfortable. Sherlock looked over to the omega, getting up and putting his coat over him. He gently touched John's cheek before putting a hand to the stomach that would be growing soon. He took a shaky breath to calm himself but it didn't help as he started walking up and down the corridor. A half hour before they got to Devon, he finally sat down and noticed that John was waking up. "Thanks," the omega said quietly.

"Wouldn't sleep if you didn't need it," Sherlock said. It was something Mycroft said when they were younger and a bit more trusting of each other. "We'll drive from the station."

"M'kay," John said, sleepily. He fell back asleep for the next twenty minutes, giving Sherlock back his coat and waking up more as they moved along. The drive was quiet, with a stop to point out some landmarks, before they got into the village. It was easy to find the Cross Keys Inn and talk to some of the people there to get a lay of the land. After a quick trip to Baskerville, along with pulling rank and seeing how far Mycroft's name really goes, they were back on the way to Henry's house. "You really do that," he said, meaning about the cheekbones and coat.

"Like you mind it," Sherlock said, seeing out of the corner of his eye that John was amused. "Do you have your gun?"

"One gun isn't going to hold up very well against a mysterious hound. But, yes, I have it. Why?" John looked at his alpha, who, despite how he could hide emotions, had a small bit of worry on his face. "I've been through worse, trust me. And you're going to be there, so it's safer than anywhere else. If you're going to sideline me on cases, then you need to talk to me about it first. Not just decide things like you always do!"

Sherlock didn't reply and the both of them rode in silence until they got to Henry's house. "I'm not deciding things on my own. I do not want you hurt, John. I'd never forgive myself."

"Is it just me or both of us?" John asked. When there was no reply, he shook his head. "Let's go talk to Henry." He left the car, turning around when there was an odd honk and seeing Sherlock's hands curled into fists resting on the middle part of the steering wheel. He turned back around and waited, letting Sherlock catch up to him and both of them going into the house. It took some convincing to get Henry to come out with them but they were out in the woods as the sun was going down. Of course, he got separated from the other two but he felt safe.

That's when the screaming started and he rushed towards where it was. The only thing he could feel through the bond was horror and wanting to kill whatever was in front of him. He got there in time to hear Henry yelling that the dog was there and that Sherlock had seen it too.

"No. I didn't see anything," Sherlock said, the calm mask never leaving his face.

"What are you talking about?" Henry said.

"I didn't see anything," was Sherlock's cold and calm reply.

John gave Sherlock a long glance, knowing what he felt over the bond, but he could sense that this was not the time for it. He turned his attention to Henry and touched the man's arm but quickly removed it was he heard a soft growl. Didn't even need to turn to look to know the growl came from Sherlock and not some supernatural hound. "Let's get you home and I'll give you something to calm down."

"But we saw it! Both of us!" Henry insisted.

"Come on." John turned Henry around, ignoring Sherlock as he went into doctor mode and got his patient back home. He was happy Sherlock went to the Inn instead of joining them as he listened to Henry talk about how Sherlock must have seen it. It would have only led to an argument and he could only take one patient at a time. After Henry was situation, he returned to the Inn and sat down where Sherlock was sitting by the fire. "Well, he's in a pretty bad way. He's manic, totally convinced there's some mutant super-dog roaming the moors." He paused but Sherlock didn't turn to look at him, just sitting in the thought position, so he continued on. "And there isn't, is there? 'Cause if people knew how to make a mutant super-dog, we'd know." He stopped there, feeling that Sherlock was going into a panic. He moved to touch Sherlock but stopped, withdrawing his hand, as he thought it wouldn't do any good. Plus, feeling the panic heighten meant it wasn't a good idea. "They'd be for sale, that's how it works."

Sherlock closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing as John continued explaining what he saw on the Moors. He'd noticed what his omega was trying to do and he focused on that. John was safe. That was the most important thing. And Moriarty, for all that he saw out on the Moors, wasn't there. He couldn't be. Mycroft sent a text on how the master criminal was in custody and being talked to. He came back out of his own thoughts as John asked what he had. "Henry's right," he admitted.

"What?" 

"I saw it too," Sherlock admitted, glossing over the shocked look on John's face. He'd mention the part on how he saw Moriarty first later. They went around on what that meant, with John trying to get him to stick to the facts. The facts were easy to stick to when he could deduce what everyone around them was doing. What everyone around them had because they wore it as plainly as they wore their clothes. He got more and more worked up as he went through his deductions, reaching the point mentally where he knew he would be better off alone, and wanted to try, one last time, to save the one that was connected to him. "Just _Leave Me Alone_."

John stared at him in shock. "Okay," he said quietly. "And why would you listen to me anyways. I'm just your friend and mate."

"I don't have friends," Sherlock spat.

"Yeah, wonder why." John got up and left the pub, thinking some air would do him good. Seeing the flashing light again and wanting a walk, he went towards it. Realizing, as he got there, it was just a car and a dead end, he turned around to go back. To the village, not the Inn, as he still needed time to cool down. And to think about what he did next. He was done dealing with mixed signals and meltdowns and whatever else it was that Sherlock was going to do next. He sighed as the familiar sound of his text messages and saw what Sherlock sent. After a few replies, he headed back to speak to Henry's therapist. That was short lived, partly because he couldn't really drink and partly due to Frankland blowing his cover. After that was over, he glanced to the chairs by the fire and saw Sherlock was still there. He went upstairs, fishing his mobile out of his pocket and going to the contacts list. He nearly called Greg before putting the phone away and curling up in bed, falling asleep quickly.

Sherlock sat in the chair for the longest time, until he could hear no more other noises, and looked around. The clock showed it was around 2 in the morning and he downed what was left of his drink. He went up to the room, quietly going in, and over towards the bed. Of course, John was deep in sleep and a quick glance saw that it was dreaming. Instead of slipping into the bed, he sat down in another chair and just kept watch.

*~*~*~*

John woke up alone in the room and felt the side of the bed next to him. He wasn't shocked to find that it was cold and slowly got up. His shoulder was hurting due to the different bed and his leg felt heavy. He was able to limp over to the bathroom, taking care of his morning ritual, before going down to have a small bit of breakfast. He was still deciding what to do as he wandered towards a cemetery there. He sat down at the war memorial, looking it over and taking a shaky breath. _Could be so much worse._ He was still sitting there when he heard and felt Sherlock walk up.

"Did you, um, get anywhere with the Morse code?" Sherlock stood there awkwardly, trying to get a feel for what John was thinking, but there seemed to be a bit of a block up.

"No." John got up and started to walk away.

"U,M,Q,R,A wasn't it? UMQRA," Sherlock said, following behind John and resisting the urge to move to walk with John.

"Nothing. Look, let's forget it. I thought I was on to something but I wasn't."

"Sure?" Sherlock asked.

"Yes," John said. "And no, I didn't get anywhere with Louise Mortimer either."

"Too bad. Did you find any information?" Sherlock was grateful when John stopped to look back at him questioningly. "Trying to break the ice."

"I'd stick with ice," John said, turning back around smartly and continuing to walk. "I'm going to head back to London. You don't need me here."

Sherlock stopped in his tracks as the pit in his stomach grew. "You don't have to."

John turned back to look at his alpha. "You don't want me here. You refuse to open up with me, think that you can sweep it under a rug, but it's just going to start again. Last night was horrible and it didn't have to be. You keep on thinking that you can do things on your own but you shouldn't. You don't have to but you want to. So I'm going to get out of your way so you can continue to be the great detective who doesn't need to worry about friends or his mate or even the baby that's on the way. I'll be back in London." He turned to walk away again.

"John, what I said before, I meant it. I don't have friends. I just have one." Sherlock took a breath he didn't know he was holding as John stopped to take that in. He moved over to his omega and took his hand. "I've never been scared before," he admitted quietly. "Yet I'm more and more with each day that goes by. I am not the best person to be tied to but I don't like us not speaking. I like communication, at least from you."

John laughed.

"What?"

"That's all I want too, you idiot," John said. "Not all the time, because I know better, but you can't close yourself off. Especially not when I can feel your emotions. I don't want you to change, even if you have with giving a damn, but talk to me. Tell me what's going on. Don't close me off."

"I admit that I will do my best," Sherlock said.

"Your best is very good," John said, kissing Sherlock briefly before being pulled in for a deeper and loving kiss. "That's good too." Sherlock grinned, about to say more, when he kissed John's forehead and moved away, going off on how John was brilliant in making things come to the surface. The alpha explained an idea hound really being an acronym as they went into a pub and then pulled up short.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Sherlock demanded as he saw Lestrade.

"Well, nice to see you too," Lestrade said. "I'm on holiday. And hello John. I heard you two were in the area. You after this Hound of Hell like on the telly?"

"I'm waiting for an explanation, Inspector. Why are you here?" Sherlock asked impatiently. "You're not on holiday. You and my insufferable brother went on one, considering you're as brown as a nut."

"Yeah, well, I fancied another one considering I went on that one alone," Lestrade said. 

"This is Mycroft, isn't it?" Sherlock demanded.

"No," Lestrade said.

"Of course it is! We even mention Baskerville and he sends down my handler."

"I'm not your handler," Lestrade said. "If anything, I am highly bored because my mate is working all the time and thought to come down on a lark. He mentioned you two were here and that's it. Now, what are the two of you up to? Because if it is a holiday, I'll eat my sunglasses. Neither of the Holmes go on one."

John burst out into laughter before bringing Lestrade up to speed and telling both what he found with the invoice. A bit of time later, with Lestrade's help to talk with the owners of the Inn, and they knew where the dog came from. There was also an odd moment where Sherlock brought over coffee to John as a peace offering, even though it was wrong, but he took it in the spirit of which it was meant. The rest of it was left behind as they summed up what they knew, with Lestrade heading to talk to the local police force and Sherlock calling up Mycroft to talk about getting into Baskerville again.

*~*~*~*

It was over. The blast from the mine field that Franklin ran into confirmed it. John moved over to Sherlock, touching his arm which brought the consulting detective back to reality. "Same intense fear as last time, even with knowing what was coming," Sherlock said quietly. "I hate it."

"It's over," John said. "Lestrade is taking Henry home. We should go get some rest."

Sherlock nodded before turning and pulling John into a very tight hug. "Mine," he whispered.

"Always," John said. "Let's get back to the Inn and rest."

Sherlock nodded, letting John out of the hug but keeping a tight hold to omega's hand. They made their way back to the Inn and going up to their room. He watched John out of the corner of his eye, the omega sitting down on the bed before lying down, and moved to sit down next to him. "In the fog... I saw Moriarty's face."

"Explains why you had such an intense fear," John said quietly. "But he's nowhere near here. We're not sure where he is."

"Locked up in a cell. The interrogation's not going well. That was the note."

John blinked and slowly sat up, batting away the help his mate gave him. "How long has it not been working?"

"I don't know. He won't tell me. I... I figured you should know because it's more than a bit not good that I don't keep you in the loop. I didn't know that before. I do now."

John smiled and kissed Sherlock's cheek. "Thank you. So, there's nothing to be fearful of. Mycroft's not going to let Moriarty go without a good reason and we're away from London."

Sherlock nodded, pulling John into a hug, before moving them both up on the bed to get comfortable. He kissed the top of John's head as his omega fell asleep, listening to his breathing and hoping that Mycroft would find something so what was to come didn't have to.


	20. I Don't Like Surprises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> See the title.

Mycroft walked up to the one-side mirror, taking a long look at James Moriarty, and pondered what to do. His supervisors said there was a deadline and, tomorrow, he had to let the man go either way. He didn't want to lose the day but he knew that nothing else could be done. The master criminal wouldn't say one way or the other if he was pulling the strings. He could curse Sherlock with giving him the idea it was a web and Moriarty a giant spider. _Not a book big enough to squash him_ was a prominent thought in his head. The second being that he wished he could tell Gregory about the plan.

"Sir?" a guard asked, bringing Mycroft out of his thoughts.

Mycroft nodded. "Let him go." The man nodded, letting Moriarty know that he was free to go. As Moriarty got up to leave, he looked at the mirror, exactly where Mycroft was. It made him shiver inside and he felt like he was about to throw up. He took a deep breath through his mouth and looked to the man who he ordered to let Moriarty go. "Yes?"

"You need to see this, sir."

Mycroft sighed and went to the cell. He looked over the walls and the glass, seeing the words **Get Sherlock** , and knowing he let it get too far. He left the room, pulling out a cell phone and called his brother. His eyes narrowed as it went to voice mail. "This has gone too far. Call me back immediately." He walked out of the building, getting into the car waiting for him with Anthea sitting across from him. "Office." He relaxed into the seat as the driver started the car and took the biscuit his assistant offered him. "Thank you."

"Knew that you would need it. The case up at Baskerville wrapped up. You'll have a full account on your desk within the hour."

"My brother's meddling actually did some good for once.” He ate the entire biscuit faster than normal and looked out the window. They were halfway back when his stomach felt like it flipped on itself. He took a long sip of water and turned the vents to get a bit more air but nothing helped. It took Anthea shaking his shoulder to get him to look at her. "I'm fine."

"You've gone paler than usual and your pulse is through the roof." She opened the divider, instructing the driver to go to a private hospital, and moved back over to Mycroft. "Have you eaten anything today?"

"Yes," he snapped and closed his eyes. "I apologize."

"It’s fine." She got an ice pack out of the first aid kit, snapping it and wrapping it up before putting it on the back of his neck. "That should help too."

He nodded, closing his eyes and only opening them again when they were at the hospital. He tried to wave off the wheelchair but, considering it was a bit hard to walk, he did accept it. He was wheeled directly into an examination room where his vitals were checked and put on a gown. He also went through the trouble of an EKG and other checks to make sure that it wasn't his heart or lungs. He closed his eyes after they left, wanting a bit of sleep. opening them when the door opened and smiled at seeing his mate. "How'd you get back so quickly?"

"Anthea ordered a helicopter. I think she's actually worried."

"Why? She's more than ready to take my position if I'm about to die of a heart attack," Mycroft said dryly.

Greg sighed. "The only good thing is that, if it happens, I get to go with you. Others aren't so lucky."

"It's not a heart attack. The EKG looked normal. Enough." He smiled at hearing his mate laugh. "They also drew blood. It's going to be a cold or a virus."

"Thought you didn't allow yourself to be sick. Or that's what you told me when I got the flu last year," Greg said. "Although, you took very good care of me, so I get to return the favor."

"I like taking care of you. Always." Mycroft took Greg's hand as the doctor came in. He relaxed at seeing that it was a smile instead of a frown. "Good news, then?"

"Most consider it good news, yes," the doctor said. "You're pregnant."

Greg looked shocked and held onto Mycroft's hand tightly. "We were - we were told that wouldn't happen. We went through nearly everything... how?"

"We did recently decide to stop worrying about it," Mycroft said quietly. "Less stress on the body of wanting it to happen made it happen. Which is not a scientific fact.”

“No, but it’s looking more and more likely that less stress on the body helps with becoming pregnant,” the doctor replied. “We are going to keep you a few more hours, due to your levels being elevated but not in a danger zone. Someone from OB will be in to check on your pregnancy. Are you comfortable here or would you like to be moved upstairs to our short term unit?”

“Upstairs,” Greg said before Mycroft could say anything. “Considering it wouldn’t be any trouble.”

“None at all,” the doctor replied. “Congratulations and we’ll move you in about five minutes.”

“Thank you doctor,” Greg said and looked back to Mycroft after the doctor left the room. “Told you it wasn’t menopause.”

“You’re going to be right some of the time, Gregory,” Mycroft teased. “If it gets to be a habit, we might have to talk about it.”

“You’re lucky I love you.” Greg sat down on the bed and took Mycroft’s hand. “What happened today?”

“Small breakfast and then on my feet until I sat down in the car. Nothing unusual, but my body decided to rebel. Treated my body too much like transport rather than taking care of it. I’ll do better in the future.”

“Considering that you wouldn’t have even had breakfast in the past before going on a marathon day, it’s an improvement, love,” Greg pointed out. “You’d survive on biscuit and tea, which is not healthy, no matter how much exercise you do. Which we should ask the doctor if you’re able to continue running.”

“He or she will probably say to make it walking instead of running. I’m just glad you’re here.”

Greg smiled, getting up when they came in to transport Mycroft upstairs. He stayed close, with Anthea saying she’d meet them upstairs, and they were shown to a private room. The OB came in to see them a few minutes after they were moved and he moved back to give the doctor space. What he was surprised by was seeing the baby so clearly. “How far along?”

“Considering the readings, I’d say about five months,” the female doctor said with a smile. “The only reason you didn’t know sooner is your genetics gave the baby a quirk to hide. And he or she is positioned in such a way that I can’t give you a definite answer on gender, if you wanted to know. But otherwise, you’re coming right along. The baby’s measurements are within normal range, unlike other cryptic pregnancies, so there’s nothing to be worried about.”

“Cryptic pregnancies?” Greg asked.

“You know those cases where the mum gets to nine months and give birth on a toilet? She says that she didn’t know she was pregnant and all? That’s called cryptic pregnancy. Usually means that the baby is on the small side, like a preemie, and needs some help because there wasn’t the right amount of hormone in the body. In other cases, like what happened here, was simply genetics and there’s nothing to worry about.” She put away the ultrasound wand, cleaning up where the solution was. “I need to do a lower examination, if you want to leave the room. All I’m doing is checking that everything looks normal and see if a C-section would be better. Even though there is a birth canal, more male omegas are comfortable to give birth via C-section. Sometimes it’s safer too, then to put the body through that stress.”

“I’ll stay,” Greg said, moving over to Mycroft. He reached through the seldom used mental bond between them. _You’re quiet, love._

_I know most of the information already. Also, it’s rude to interrupt when you were relaxing at knowing more._

"And you’re perfectly fine down there as well. If you want, you can continue sex for a couple more months, but then I’d ease off until after the baby’s born. Unless either of you have questions, we'll get the midwife service in here and sign you up. Since this is the first bump, I'm really not all that worried about there being any problems. He or she will talk to you about what you wish to do for the rest of the pregnancy and how you wish to handle the birth. So, I'm going to get out of the way and congratulations again."

"Thank you doctor," Mycroft said. "And we'll do the genetic screening before I'm discharged?"

"Yes," the doctor replied. "Depending on how fast the midwife representative can get here, a nurse will come in to draw blood and we'll make sure you have the results before you leave."

Mycroft nodded, letting the doctor leave. "Not that it matters. There's nothing saying that we can't raise a child who might have some additional difficulties than the normal ones."

Greg chuckled. "Well, good, I don't have to make that argument. Was worried there for a moment. Do you mind if I text John and Sherlock? Figure they should know that they're going to be uncles before we are."

"It's not a race and yes, you can." Mycroft laid back in the bed, closing his eyes for a moment as his mate texted and only waking up when the nurse came to draw the blood. "How long was I asleep?"

"An hour. How much sleep did you get last night, love?"

"Not enough," Mycroft said. "How are Sherlock and John?"

"On their way back via the train. Sherlock wants to know if we're able to meet them for a surprise celebration dinner tonight. He's got something planned and won't tell me. Just asking us to be at Angelo's by eight."

"We should be out of here by then. it's only a bit after 1," Mycroft said. "Thank you for going to Baskerville for me."

"Ever going to tell me why you couldn't join me for that? Or our vacation? I mean, it was fun being on the beach but would have enjoyed it more with you there."

"And you could have watched me burn to a crisp." Mycroft smiled at his mate's chuckle. "Soon. I want to tell you but... soon. It's for your safety that I can't say what's really going on. Sherlock's helping, as much as he can, considering it's in his interest too."

"So Moriarty." Greg laughed at his mate's shocked face. "The only criminal in all of London, aside from Irene Adler, who could get you two to work together and be nice. Or at least less at each other's throats."

"We are not at each other's throats, thank you very much, Gregory. It's how we've been since we were children. It's too late to outgrow it now."

"Well, speaking on behalf of the normal people in the relationships, you two should try."

"If you and John were normal, none of us would be in our relationships," Mycroft countered. "You're both strange enough to be interesting."

"You're lucky I love you and that I don't bap pregnant omegas with their own pillows." Greg grinned as it was Mycroft's turn to laugh. It wasn't soon after that the midwife came in and both started to make plans for a future that would turn two into three.


	21. But You're Worth It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set at the end of Hound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the sugary sweet that's happening. All dialogue from the show belongs to Gatiss, BBC, et all.

John looked up as Sherlock put down a mug of tea down on the table. He eyed it for a moment before taking a sip and relaxing at it not being sweet. He was curious about why it was tea instead of coffee before shaking his head about his walking encyclopedia of a mate. Somehow, tucked away in that brain, was the fact that pregnant women and omegas should stay away from too much caffeine. He stole Sherlock's cup instead, taking a sip and making a face at how sweet it was. "That's horrible."

"You shouldn't have any. There's a risk of miscarriage."

"That's if I drink more than three cups of coffee. Considering I never drink more than one and then switch to tea, the baby is more than safe." John looked at his cup and then up at Sherlock. "I'm not going to regret that hours later, am I?"

"No. Case is solved after all." Sherlock sighed. "Doctors are recommending only a small cup of coffee a day."

"Well, this doctor says that I'm more than allowed my full cup of coffee unless you want me shooting at the wall too." John grinned at hearing the chuckle and looked up at Billy waiting on the customers. "We should tell them."

"Why didn't they have it put down then - the dog?" 

"They couldn't bring themselves to do it," John said.

"I see," Sherlock said, lying.

"No you don't," John said. "And you're going to get me a cup of coffee in a moment."

"No, I don't. Sentiment?"

"Sentiment," John said. His mind wandered to the lab, asking Sherlock about it and shaking his head as Sherlock tried to skate around the issue. He raised an eyebrow at hearing that it was a trick and resisted the urge to dump the coffee and the tea in his mate's lap. "Don't do that again. Any long term effects?"

"None at all. You'll be fine once you've excreted it. We all will."

"Think I might have taken care of that already." John smiled as Sherlock got up, going over to Billy and telling him about the dog. He happily took the cup of coffee that Sherlock came back with, feeling a bit more comfortable with some caffeine in his system. He finished up eating and sighed contently.

"John?"

"Yeah, we should get going," John said, getting up from the table.

"More wondering why you're wearing my shirt and not one of the ones you brought."

"Do you really want an explanation or do you want the shirt back?"

"Explanation." Sherlock took John's hand, leading him to an already packed car to go back to the train station. "Considering that we both had enough clothing to last us a week and the case only lasted a couple of days."

"Because of what happened in the lab and having a nightmare last night... it's calming. That's all. Again, I can take it off if you want and give it back. Might have to steal your coat then."

"My coat," Sherlock said possessively, opening the car door for John. "I didn't notice you had a nightmare last night."

"You actually slept last night instead of half sleeping, half thinking," John replied as he got into the car. "Not the worst thing in the world, it's just why you didn't notice. And I don't mind. You need your sleep, even more than I do, considering that you think that sleep is not the best thing for your mind. Or maybe too much in the memory system to properly boot up."

"I'm not a machine, thank you."

John chuckled and thought for a moment as they were pulling away. "We're not taking Lestrade back?"

"He got here, he can get back easily enough. Or Mycroft will send up a helicopter or something via the base."

"Oh. Well, would have been nice to at least ask him." John got comfortable in the seat, full from breakfast, and dozed on the way to the train station. He smiled as they went into the first class cabin again, getting comfortable and reclining the chair, quickly going to sleep as the train started on its way.

Sherlock smiled at that, looking down at John's hand and noticed that John was wearing the ring he gave him. He touched under his own shirt, wearing John's dog tags, and looked down at his phone. His first call was to Angelo's, asking if they could have enough for a party and making a reservation for nine people at 8 pm. He texted Lestrade next, not expecting a quick answer, before he texted Molly as well. _Are you free at 8 tonight for a small party celebrating my marriage to John?_ He only hoped that there wouldn't be any questions about the ceremony as he wanted something even smaller for that.

 _So happy for u2! See you at 8!_ was her reply.

Sherlock smiled and looked at his deeply sleeping mate. He thought for a moment, knowing which pocket John kept his phone in, and got it out without waking his omega. He went through the contacts, finding Harry's, and opened up a text message. _Surprising John with a wedding ceremony and would be honored if you came. - SH_. He thought about explaining where, but he still had to call the place and drop his name after he sent the text. He hit send and got up, pocking John's phone as he moved to where he could speak. He set up the details, keeping an eye on his mate, and frowned at seeing that Harry hadn't responded.

After double checking that it sent, he went to another part of the phone book. He found Clara's number easy and copied it over to his phone before calling. 

"Hello?" Clara asked.

Sherlock paused, realizing he would have done this a lot better over text, but there was no time for that now. "It's Sherlock. I'm trying to organize a surprise for John and sent a text to his sister."

"Oh," Clara said. "I... I'm sorry, I don't know where she is."

Sherlock's eyes narrowed. He could hear that was the truth, but there was much more behind it as well. "She started drinking again."

"Yes," Clara said and sniffled. "I'm sorry. I can try to find her but it might be best not to have her there at all. She tried her best this time, she did, but the small time she spends sober ended a while ago."

"No," Sherlock said. "Better not. I - thank you."

"Just... don't tell John? If she can hide behind the computer a bit more, with the comments, she feels better. Plus, it means that he won't call and I won't have to tell him."

"I think he already suspects, wouldn't be the least bit surprised, and wouldn't be happy the truth was hidden from him. Anyways, thank you." Sherlock hung up before he had to listen to any more of the sniffling or the stupidity of it all. He did have the good thought to erase the message to Harry, considering it was the only one in the thread, and putting John's phone back in his pocket. He sighed at hearing a text message, reading it from Lestrade and rolling his eyes. _So getting the two of you to a surprise wedding ceremony is out? At five._ "Oh for the love - what?" he snapped as he answered his phone, which caused other passengers to look at him.

"You realize the paperwork you're going to put yourself through," Mycroft said. "And weren't you complaining, not too long ago, about not wanting to get married? I think it was the night before Gregory and I decided to change from Paris to a small civil one."

"That was then and this is now," Sherlock replied. "You're only in the hospital because the baby tried to take too much of your food away, aren't you?"

"You tried to get John's sister to come. Oddly sentimental."

Sherlock resisted the urge to simply hang up on his brother. "Not as bad as you thinking you needed to invite Lestrade's parents."

"Sherlock, if the parents are alive, they usually come to the ceremony unless there's something seriously wrong," Mycroft said calmly.

"Doctor said resting, not verbal sparring with your brother," Lestrade said in the background.

"I'll explain in a moment," Mycroft replied. "Sherlock... at best, don't let him know from you and make up a lie. You know how to do that."

"Of course, considering I learned from the best." Sherlock shut off the phone and made his way back to John, who was now fully awake and didn't look happy. "What?"

"Next time, ask for my phone," John said, holding out his hand.

"Making sure nothing woke you," Sherlock replied but handed it back. "Mycroft's pregnant."

John blinked but then grinned. "Knew it wasn't menopause. But that's not why you were cursing. And loudly."

"I'm sorry," Sherlock said. "I... I was trying to do something nice and one person can't make it."

John sighed. "Did Clara leave her or did Harry start drinking again?"

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "How?"

"I'm rubbing off on you. It's the only time I would curse," John replied. "And considering how Christmas and New Year's went... well, let's just say that I'm not surprised that she didn't stay sober. I... it's been too long. If she wants to quit, she will, but I think both Clara and I are beyond trying to help her. There's no way to help her. I thought being shot would, for a while, but..." he sighed. "What was the nice thing?"

"Dinner. To tell them about being aunts and... well, I got off so fast I didn't say anything."

"That's fine," John said. "I have to rethink if I want her to have any contact with our child anyways. Not even with one of us being there. Something could happen and I'd never forgive her. Or forgive myself." He sighed. "Invite Mycroft and Lestrade instead?"

"Already did," Sherlock said. "I figured we'd drop off the luggage and have time for a couple of errands."

John looked confused. "New case already?"

"Different errands." Sherlock picked up his phone, going quiet on John.

"Not case errands... okay." John kept an eye on Sherlock before grabbing a newspaper and settling down to read until they got back to London. They dropped their luggage off at home, with Sherlock inviting Mrs. Hudson to both events, and he pulled John out the door. He called for a cab, letting John get in first, and giving the address of where to go. He smiled at John's confused look again and settled into the cab seat. "Okay, so I haven't figured it out."

"Deduced that," Sherlock said. "It's not a bad errand. More that it should happen because..."

John waited for the end of a sentence that didn't come and it slowly dawned on him. "Did you set everything up already?" he asked quietly. "And that's the real reason you were calling Harry?"

"Yes." Sherlock swallowed as John just stared at him. He relaxed mentally with John hugging him tightly and hugged him back. "So, good?"

"Very," John replied. "Where are we going first?"

"Suits, then rings if you want one, and then register's office. Unless you want a religious one?"

John shook his head no. "I never - but - You hate weddings."

"I hate other people's weddings. Same goes for children," Sherlock said offhandedly as they pulled up to the suit shop. He paid the cabbie, getting out with John, and getting fitted quickly for a couple of good suits. The rings were a simple affair, a gold band for John to give Sherlock and a silver band for Sherlock to give John, and it was nearly five when they arrived at the register's office. Mycroft, Lestrade, and Mrs. Hudson were all waiting for them, with Mrs. Hudson giving John a hug. They were called back soon after, with a simple but beautiful ceremony, and then heading back to the flat for some drinks. Sherlock realized, like his brother, he could get used to a small bit of normal family life, if and only if, it was John right there with him.


	22. Reaction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reaction after a visitor comes to 221B.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're confused, [this video](https://youtu.be/6OH-nPEEtNc) from John's blog will help you. :) The miscarriage tag comes into play here, saying in case anyone has a trigger to it and thought I wasn't going to use it, so heads up for that. Please enjoy.

It was a few months after his wedding to John that Sherlock found himself walking into the Diogenes Club. One of the few things he liked about the place was the silence and bowed his head respectfully to his many times great uncle Mycroft, whom his brother was named after. He never looked into the many times great grandfather that he was named after, but that wasn't here or there at the moment. Instead, he made his way into the main room, looking around to see his brother. Since he didn't see Mycroft there, he turned and quietly made his way to the Stranger's Room. He stood at the door, hands behind his back, until it was opened for him and then quietly closed. "You summoned me for what now?"

Mycroft lowered the tabloid he was reading and folded it neatly. He motioned for Sherlock to come sit down and sipped at his tea. "This was going to be an update but there is a more pressing matter. Have you looked at John's blog lately?"

"No. I try to keep the realm of the fantasy to my mate instead of diving in after him."

"Yet you make comments," Mycroft said. He moved to get up and sighed as Sherlock got up and got the laptop for him. "Thank you."

"I have no desire to see you waddle, brother, or hear how you're going to hurt yourself with getting the weight off."

"Not that I care what you think, but I'm at a healthy weight, thank you." Mycroft brought up the video before turning it to show Sherlock. It was of Moriarty breaking into the flat and the soft commentary that followed about Mrs. Hudson and the rest of the flat. "Gregory intercepted John before he got back with the shopping. They ran a sweep. No bomb, no drugs left behind, nothing. John did ask for all food that was in the flat to be binned and then scrubbed everything before putting things away. Gregory helped as much as he could. All the locks were changed and John has copies of the keys for you."

"John shouldn't be so paranoid," Sherlock said quietly. "He watched the video?"

"Yes," Mycroft replied. "Gregory's sitting with John until you can get back. I would recommend that the both of you get a hotel room for a bit of time, but I do know that's going to be shot down. Also that you could come to the family house, but also - "

"No," Sherlock said, hearing a soft buzz in his right ear as he started to feel uncomfortably warm. "We'll be fine. John needs to be at home right now. I should be going." He stood quickly, snapping the laptop shut, and lost a bit of his balance as the room spun. He put down the laptop, holding onto the chair, as the room continued to spin. He could hear Mycroft's voice, possibly trying to ask him something, and he closed his eyes as the buzz turned into high pitched ringing. He could feel his legs go out from under him as everything went black.

*~*~*~*

Sherlock sighed as he woke up, hearing the soft beeping of a monitor in the room. He sat up, pulling off the blood pressure cup on him and shutting off the machine as the alarm went off. He went to the other bed, seeing that John was laying there unconscious, and looked up at the machine to see his mate's vitals. He could also see blood for a transfusion was there and that John looked paler than normal. He touched his mate's cheek, looking worriedly at him, and not looking up as someone came in.

"Sherlock, the doctor wants to talk with you," Lestrade said quietly. "She could come in here."

Sherlock nodded, pulling over a chair and sitting down before taking John's hand. He looked up when the doctor came in and sighed. "Miscarriage?"

"A violent one," she said quietly. "I'm so sorry Mister Holmes. We're not sure when Doctor Watson will wake up, all we know is that he will. As you can see, we have given him a transfusion and a small bit of pain medication. Nothing too powerful," she added as Sherlock nearly interrupted her. "We're not sure why there was so much blood loss, just that there was, but there's no reason why you can't try again."

He nodded. "He’ll be happy to hear that, after a while.”

“And you’re feeling alright?”

He raised an eyebrow at the question. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You came in unconscious and losing a small bit of blood yourself. Your bond with your mate is strong enough that you’ll experience symptoms when your mate is severely ill like now. I do believe you are one of the rare cases where, if your omega dies, you will die as well. Usually, the alpha isn’t harmed if the omega dies.”

“At least not on the surface. Thank you doctor," he said quietly, not trusting himself to say more. He was glad when the doctor and Lestrade left, keeping a tight hold to John's hand, not looking up when Lestrade came back in about a half hour later. He could smell the food and tea, only taking the tea with one hand, and sipping at it. "What happened?"

"He was fine one minute and then the next, he was falling to the floor. I called for an ambulance immediately but there was a lot of blood. Considering the events of the day, even with the cleaning, there could have been some of Moriarty's scent there or there could have been something that they missed in getting the food out."

"Or it could be none of those things and just how life is supposed to be," Sherlock said quietly. "I don't think I'm supposed to be a father."

"Git," John whispered. "Stupidest thing I've heard you say."

Lestrade smiled. "I'll be back.”

"You only woke up because you smelled tea," Sherlock said after Lestrade left.

"I'm not the Doctor. I don't automatically heal at just the smell or taste of tea," John said, opening his eyes fully and looking up at Sherlock. "I'm sorry. I possibly did too much or worried too much or something else is wrong with me."

"Or it's none of those things. Considering we cannot say which is the true reason, then... then it is something most believe in and what I think is fantasy." Sherlock sighed. "But it is not your fault, John Watson-Holmes, and if you continue to believe that, I will... I will do something to make you not believe it. I'm not sure what, but I would."

John chuckled, his hand tightening around Sherlock's. "I love you, Sherlock Holmes."

Sherlock smiled, raising John's hand to his lips to kiss it. "Sleep for a bit," he said quietly and watched John go back to sleep. He put the tea on the table and got out his mobile, texting Mycroft. _Start process for main event with your reporter. Do we have eyes on Moriarty?_

The reply was a photo of Moriarty waving to one of the cameras on the street by Heathrow. _An hour after the video was posted. He didn’t get on a plane. Sebastian Moran picked him up with someone in the backseat. If we need to, there is one in his inner circle who will pull the trigger. She’s oddly loyal to you over her alpha._

Sherlock sighed and put away the cell phone. He looked down at John, knowing that the only thing that could protect his mate was Moriarty's death. And if he couldn't kill the man himself, he knew the death would happen all the same.


End file.
